Ml 


^ " 


"  Took  1o  his  bark  upon  the  pebbled  shore, 
Those  unknown  realms  of  Nature  to  explore 


SUNRISE   ON  ECHO   LAKE. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE, 

FROM 

MOOSEHEAD  LAKE  TO  THE  AROOSTOOK  RIVER, 

MAINE. 


THOMAS  SEDGWICK  STEELE, 

AUTHOR  OF  "CANOE  AND  CAMERA,"  MAPS  OF  MAINE,  ETC., 


"  Hunting  is  tha  noblest  exercise, 
Makes  men  laborious,  active,  wise, 
Brings  health,  and  doth  the  spirits  delight, 
It  helps  the  hearing  and  the  sight; 
It  teacheth  arts  that  never  slip 
The  memory,  good  'lorsemanship, 
Search,  sharpness,  courage,  and  defence, 
And  chaseth  all  ill  habits  thence." 

JONSON'S  MASQUES. 

WITH  OVER  SIXTY  ILLUSTRATIONS, 

AND  MAP  20x30  INCHES  OF  THE  CANOE  COURSES  OF  NORTHERN  MAINE. 


BOSTON : 

ESTES    AND    LAURIAT, 

299-305  WASHINGTON  STREET. 
1882. 


COPYRIGHT. 

THOMAS  SEDGWICK  STEELE, 
1882. 


.  s.  s. 


2021068 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  start. — Unwarranted  assumptions. — Our  guides  and  outfit — A 
flimsy  wharf. — Railroading  of  the  old  days. — Contemptible  deceit  to- 
ward dumb  animals. — Commencement  of  fun  on  the  "Carries." — 
We  go  into  camp.  — First  night  in  the  wilds, Page  1 5 


CHAPTER  II. 

Moving  on. — Pine  Stream  Falls. — Chesuncook  Lake  and  Farm. — Um- 
bazookus  Carry. — A  dry  ground  sleighing  party. — Further  experience 
with  the  horse. — A  glimpse  of  desolation. — Chamberlin  Lake. — A 
vision.  —  Eagle  Lake.  —  Smith  Brook.  —  Haymoak  Falls.  —  Trout 
Stories, Page  36 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  III. 

In  rough  water. — North  Twin  Stream. — An  Indian  paddle  for  future  use. 
— Breezes,  blankets,  cold  and  ice. — Spider  Lake. — Manifold  charms 
of  camp  life. — At  work  with  the  traps. — Concerning  beaver. — We  pro- 
claim our  intentions,  Page  60 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Osgood  Carry. — The  pack-horse  league. — Novel  trick  in  pedestrianism. 
— Camp  on  Echo  Lake. — Hiram  tells  a  story. — Sluicing  a  dam. — • 
More  concerning  beaver. — Camp  at  the  Mansungun  Lakes,  Page  79 

CHAPTER  V. 

A  vision  on  the  lake. — Nichols'  birch-horn. — A  midnight  hunt  under  a 
cold  moon. — Calling  the  moose, Page  104 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Decrease  of  our  provisions. — Face  to  face  with  starvation. — Sore  trials. 
— Shoeing  canoes. — Through  the  storm. — We  sight  the  waters  of  the 
Aroostook. — "Hurrah!" Page  115 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Redeemed  from  starvation. — The  first  habitation  on  the  Aroostook. — 
Mr.  Bolting's  house. — The  tourograph  astonishes  the  natives. — Pur- 
chasing supplies  at  Masardis. — Homev/ard  Bound. — Au  Revoir! 

Page  131 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


1.  SUNRISE   ON   ECHO   LAKE, Frontispiece. 

2.  DEDICATION, PACK    4 

3.  A  BEAVER  DAM, I3 

4.  INITIAL   "O,"— LEAVING  MOOSEHEAD  LAKE, 16 

5.  OUR   GUIDES, 22 

6.  A  SERIO-COMIC, 28 

7.  THE  FIRST  CAMP 3, 

8.  THE  BEST  MAN  TO  WIN, 33 

9.  NIGHT  ON  THE  WEST  BRANCH 35 

10.  INITIAL  "B," 36 

11.  CHESUNCOOK  LAKE 37 

is.    CHESUNCOOK  FARM, 38 

13.  UMBAZOOKUS  STREAM, 41 

14.  PORTAGE,      ...                 43 

15.  OUTLET  OF  CHAMBERLIN   LAKE, 47 

16.  CHAMBERLIN  FARM,                49 

17.  FACETIAE, 50 

18      HAYMOAK.  FALLS, 52 

13.     GOOD   SPORT, 56 

ao.    THE  DOG, ,  59 


to 


ILL  USTRA  TIONS. 


31.  INITIAL  «'E," 

2».  A  COLD   WAVE, 63 

23.  LOW— THE  POOR  INDIAN, 65 

24.  DEVELOPING  A  PLATE 66 

25.  "TREES   PILED  ON  TREES" 68 

26.  TWILIGHT  IN  THE  WILDS, 7* 

27.  EVACUATION, , 73 

28.  "ON  TO  THE  AROOSTOOK," 78 

29.  INITIAL  "I," 79 

30.  THE  PACK-HORSE  LEAGUE, 82 

31.  AT  NIGHT  BY  THE  CAMP  FIRE, 84 

32  "BY  DINT  0'   PUSHIN'   AN"  HAULIN"— 87 

33.  "FOLLERIN1   HIS   SLOAT-HALLOO  !" 91 

34.  "BEAT  HIM  LIKE  AN   OLD   CARPET,"            93 

35.  "SAT  ALL  NIGHT  WATCHIN*   IT  BURN  DOWN," 94 

36.  BEAVER  DAM-FOUR  FEET  HIGH— ONE  HUNDRED  FEET  WIDE,      .  96 

37.  SLUICING  A  DAM,             98 

38.  CHASE   BROOK, I01 

39.  ODDS  AND   ENDS, I03 

40.  INITIAL  "T."                i°4 

41.  "MOOSE?    YOU   DON'T   SAY  SO !"              ...                ....  105 

42.  "OH,  SUCH  A  PAIR  OF  HORNS!"              i°6 

43.  THE  DECOY, i°9 

44.  CALLING  THE  MOOSE, i« 

45.  MOONLIGHT  ON  THE  LAKE, "4 

46.  INITIAL  "A," "5 

47.  SHOEING  CANOES, "7 

48.  "WOULDN'T  TAKE  FIFTY  DOLLARS  FOR  IT," 119 

49.  MANSUNGUN  DEADWATER, "i 

50.  A  SKY  PI    TURE,                123 

51.  A  TWELVE  MILE   "DRAG," 125 

52.  FROM  THE  DRY  TO  THE  WET  PROCESS, 128 

53.  CAMP  ON  THE  AROOSTOOK  RIVER,               130 


ILL  USTRA  TIONS.  n 

54.  INITIAL  "\V," »        .        fc  »  131 

55.  A  WAITING  BREAKFAST ;         i         .  .  i3» 

56.  THE   FIRST  HOUSE  ON  THE  AROOSTOOK   RIVER.                          :  134 

57.  "CAN  YOU   GET  UP   A  DINNER  FOR  THE  CROWDT            ...  137 

58.  BIRD-TRAPPING  MADE  EASY, ;         .         .  :  139 

59.  "SEVENTY   SUMMERS," :         :        :  :  140 

60.  A  PEEP   AT  THE  STRANGERS, i         .  ;  141 

61.  PRESQUE  ISLE— CIVILIZATION  IN   FOCUS—                                         :  :  144 

62.  VALEDICTORY, ;  146 

63.  FINIS,             .............  i  148 


INTRODUCTION. 


CJN  page  31  of  Canoe  and  Camera  I  made  the  fol- 
lowing foot-note,  in  mentioning  the  fourth  tour  from 
Moosehead  Lake  through  the  Maine  Wilderness:  "Still 
another  trip  can  be  made  from  Churchill  Lake  through 
Spider,  Echo  and  Mansungun  Lakes  to  the  waters  of  the 
Aroostook,  leaving  the  woods  at  Caribou,  Maine.  But 
the  scenery  is  uninteresting,  and  the  difficulties  will  not 
compensate  one  for  the  labor  endured,  while  woe  betide 
the  tourist  if  the  water  is  low." 

I  little  imagined,  as  I  penned  this  paragraph  from 
hearsay,  that  the  following  season  I  should  so  thoroughly 
acquaint  myself  with  its  "difficulties,"  and  learn  from -ac- 
tual experience  the  beauties  of  its  scenery. 

Yet,  in  the  autumn   of   1880,  while  putting   in    order 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

my  well-worn  camp  equipage  with  no  definite  plan  in 
view,  a  letter  from  my  friend  and  fellow  traveller,  Colonel 
G.,  gave  this  fortunate  direction  to  my  fall  trip.  This 
letter  informed  me  that  the  year  previous  he  had  dis- 
covered a  region  unknown  to  the  sportsman  and  tourist, 
yet  accessible  by  canoe  from  Moosehead  Lake,  and  was 
rejoicing  in  the  title  of  the  "  Pioneer  of  the  Aroostook." 
I  could  not,  therefore,  be  the  first  to  explore  this  route, 
and  so,  accepting  second  honors,  began  immediate  prep- 
arations for  the  trip. 

The  oldest  inhabitants  of  Maine  may  have  known  a 
drier  season  than  that  of  1880,  but  the  reader  will  per- 
ceive in  the  following  pages  that  a  cart,  rather  than  a 
canoe,  might  have  been  used  in  the  exploration  of  the 
greater  portion  of  this  unknown  region. 

THE    AUTHOR. 

HARTFORD,  CONN.,  1881. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE, 


MOOSEHEAD  LAKE  TO  THE  AROOSTOOK  RIVER,  MAINE. 


ILLUSTRATED  AT  DAY'S  STUDIO,  NEW  YORK, 

FROM 

PHOTOGRAPHS  MADE  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


CHAPTER    I. 


'  Happy  the  man  who  has  the  town  escaped  ; 
To  hi:n  the  whisp'ring  trees,  the  murmuring  brooks, 
The  shining  pebbles,  preach 
Virtue's  and  wisdom's  love." 


THE  START. —UNWARRANTED  ASSUMPTIONS. —OUR 
GUIDES  AND  OUTFIT.— A  FLIMSY  WHARF.— RAILROAD- 
ING OF  THE  OLD  DAYS.— CONTEMPTIBLE  DECEIT  TO- 
WARD DUMB  ANIMALS.— COMMENCEMENT  OF  FUN  ON 
THE  "CARRIES."— WE  GO  INTO  CAMP.— FIRST  NIGHT 
IN  THE  WILDS. 


i6 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


i 
s 

N  the  nth  of  September  I  landed 
at  the  Mount  Kineo  House,  Moose- 
head  Lake,  fully  equipped  for  a  voy- 
age of  over  four  hundred  miles 
through  the  wilderness  of  Maine  to 
New  Brunswick.  Colonel  G.,  my 
comrade  adventurer,  having  arrived 
afew  days  previous,  had  engaged  the 
guides,  canoes,  provisions,  and  other 

accessories,  so  there    was   little    to    do   save   discard  the 

habiliments  of  civilization. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  17 

Two  days  after,  on  the  morning  of  the  1 3th,  we  start- 
ed from  the  Kineo  Dock  on  the  little  steamer  DAY 
DREAM  for  the  northern  extremity  of  Moosehead  Lake, 
at  which  point  we  were  to  bid  adieu  to  civilization  and 
traverse  the  remainder  of  our  route  alone  by  paddle  and 
portage. 

As  the  steamer  cast  loose  from  the  wharf,  our  interest- 
ed friends  ashore  gave  us  a  farewell  cheer  that  echoed 
across  the  waters  of  the  lake.  In  these  realms  of  adven- 
ture, everybody  is  one's  friend.  Friendship  is  sponta- 
neous ;  good  feeling  reigns  supreme,  and  people  that  we 
did  not  know  united  with  people  that  we  did  know  in 
their  signal- tokens  of  "  Godspeed  " — or,  at  least,  we 
thought  they  did.  As  we  passed  up  the  lake,  fashion- 
able ladies  and  gentlemen  waved  their  handkerchiefs 
upon  the  piazzas  of  the  hotel. 

"This  attention  is  pleasing,"  remarked  the  Colonel. 

"Pshaw!"  I  said;  "It  is  warm  this  morning.  Don't 
you  feel  the  heat  of  the  air  ?  They  are  fanning  them- 
selves." 

"  Oh !"  he  said  ;  "  I  thought  they  were  giving  us  a  fare- 
well." 


i8  PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 

Down  on  Kineo  pebble  beach  some  of  the  guides,  who 
hang  around  the  hotel  while  "  open  for  engagements," 
were  standing  in  company  with  a  few  of  the  oldest  in- 
habitants, sweeping  the  air  with  their  broad  felt  hats  in  a 
manner  wild  and  energetic.  Pointing  these  out  to  me, 
the  Colonel  hinted  his  belief  that  their  actions  were  in- 
tended for  us. 

"Nonsense,"  I  said;  "more  likely  they're  doing  bat- 
tle with  a  horde  of  offensive  insects." 

Not  far  from  this  group  stood  a  party  of  sportsmen, 
who  fired  a  volley  from  their  rifles  that  rattled  over  the 
lake  with  a  harsh,  spasmodic  detonation.  To  me,  how- 
ever, the  voice  of  the  report  was  highly  expressive. 

"Colonel,"  I  said,  with  a  sudden  flush  of  pleasure; 
"there's  a  party  of  the  boys  giving  us  a  send-off.' 

"Fudge,"  said  the  Colonel;  "do  you  see  that  duck  fly- 
ing across  the  lake  ?  There's  the  worthy  object  of  the 
honor.  They've  missed  it.  Some  bevy  of  girl-admirers 
have  been  watching  them  from  the  hotel,  and  they  save 
their  reputation  by  looking  toward  us,  as  if  the  volley 
was  intended  for  a  salute." 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  collapsing  at  the  Colonel's  retaliatory  ex- 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  ig 

planation  ;  "I  thought  it  strange  that  we  should  cause  so 
much  trouble." 

In  a  short  while  we  were  ploughing  the  upper  waters 
of  Moosehead  Lake,  and  the  frowning  bluffs  of  Mount 
Kineo  began  to  fade  into  the  distance,  the  rocks,  the 
trees,  and  other  features  of  its  scenery,  becoming  indis- 
tinct in  a  haze  of  deepening  purple.  As  the  little  steam- 
er moved  onward,  lying  on  the  deck  among  the  baggage, 
we  took  our  ease,  and  listened  to  the  predictions  of  our 
few  companion-passengers,  and  studied  the  glowing  elo- 
quence of  the  cloudless  sky,  both  of  which  bespoke  the 
ominous  fact  of  the  dry  season,  and  told  us  with  cruel 
blandness  to  rest  while  we  might,  as  there  was  in  store 
plenty  of  exhilarating  exercise  upon  the  "  carries "  be- 
yond. 

While  we  are  progressing  to  our  destination,  I  will  take 
an  opportunity  for  a  description  of  our  guides  and  gen- 
eral outfit.  This  some  people  consider  necessary,  and  it 
is  therefore  a  duty  which  sooner  or  later  must  be  fulfilled. 

The  guides,  for  such  an  extended  tour  of  exploration, 
had  been  well  chosen.  One  of  them  was  an  Indian, 
whose  tribe  had  originated  on  the  St.  John's  River.  He 


20  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

lived,  however,  at  Oldtown,  Maine.  His  name  was 
Thomas  Nichols.  He  was  a  stalwart  man,  six  feet  in 
height,  forty-eight  years  of  age,  and  weighed  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty-five  pounds.  He  was  considered  the  best 
hunter  in  the  vicinity,  while  his  reputation  in  the  manu- 
facture of  birch  canoes  was  known  throughout  the  State. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  grey  shirt,  a  cardigan  jacket,  and  a 
black  felt  hat,  which  made  him  look  like  a  savage  who 
had  fallen  into  the  clutches  of  some  prowling  missionary, 
and  issued  from  the  " conversional  brush,"  not  the  better 
of  soul,  but  the  richer  of  a  complex  and  indifferent  suit 
of  clothes. 

We  had  two  other  guides,  Hiram  and  John  Mansell, 
who  were  brothers  from  Greenville,  Maine,  the  former  of- 
ficiating as  cook,  the  latter  as  man  of  all  work.  Hiram 
was  clad  in  a  pair  of  blue  pants  with  red  stripes  at  the 
sides,  a  souvenir  of  military  life,  and  looked  like  a  relic 
of  Bull  Run.  He  wore  a  jacket  of  brown  duck,  with  a 
leather  strap  about  his  waist,  to  which  was  slung  a  long 
bowie-knife,  whose  sheath  was  a  deer's  leg  with  the  hoof 
attached.  He  stood  five  feet  five  inches  in  his  stockings 
— how  high  with  his  shoes  on  we  are  not  prepared  to 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  23 

say — was  thirty-one  years  of  age,  and  weighed  just  one 
hundred  and  forty-eight  pounds,  before  dinner.  His 
brother  John,  clad  throughout  in  grey  woollen  attire,  was 
twenty-three  years  old,  but  as  strong  as  an  ox,  and  hav- 
ing served  a  good  apprenticeship  among  the  loggers, 
could  wield  an  axe  with  powerful  effect. 

In  addition  to  the  provisions  necessary  to  feed  five 
hungry  men  on  a  five  weeks'  cruise,  our  canoes  were 
further  loaded  with  two  canvas  A  tents,  6x8  feet,  a  Ba- 
ker tent,  7x9  feet,  six  iron  beaver  traps,  five  rubber  and 
canvas  bags,  containing  our  blankets,  rubber  beds,  cook- 
ing utensils,  four  Winchester  rifles,  and  a  good  supply  of 
ammunition. 

Last  but  not  least  in  importance  to  the  expedition 
was  a  Tourograph,  an  instrument  with  which  to  photo- 
graph the  scenery  along  the  route.  This  apparatus, 
which  was  always  placed  at  the  head  of  my  tent,  was 
tended  with  zealous  care  from  first  to  last,  and  many 
were  the  cautions  given  the  guides  as  to  its  disposition 
in  the  canoe  or  on  the  carries. 

"All  ashore!"  cried  Colonel  G.,as  we  reached  the  rick- 
etty  wharf  at  the  extremity  of  Moosehead  Lake.  This 


24  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

wharf  was  a  sadly  dilapidated  affair.  As  we  stepped 
upon  it  to  transfer  our  baggage  to  the  shore  it  squeaked 
like  a  box  of  compressed  guinea-pigs,  and  bounced  and 
rocked  so  beneath  our  weight  that  the  Colonel  declared 
it  had  at  one  time  been  an  Indian  baby-charmer. 

Gaining  land  we  strapped  our  canoes  and  baggage 
upon  a  wagon  which  was  in  waiting,  to  which  were  at- 
tached a  pair  of  horses,  that  were  also  in  waiting,  with 
their  goodly  snouts  immersed  in  the  contents  of  a  mon- 
ster bag  and  snuffing  after  a  handful  of  oats  that  had 
been  lost  somewhere  in  the  interior.  Then,  as  our  party 
gave  the  steamer  a  farewell  cheer,  the  Colonel  and  I  led 
the  advance  along  the  sandy  path  of  the  North  East 
Carry,  leaving  the  guides  to  bring  up  the  rear,  to  prevent 
any  loss  of  the  "kit."  As  we  trudged  along,  looking  to 
the  right,  our  attention  was  attracted  to  an  old  road  along 
which  ran  in  dubious  parallel  two  long  rows  of  disjointed 
logs,  which  were  soon  lost  to  sight  in  the  choking  wild- 
growth.  These  logs  had  once  served  as  the  tracks  of  a 
wooden  railroad,  extending  two  miles  across  the  fields. 
over  which  the  loggers,  in  former  years,  had  drawn  their 
supplies  to  the  Penobscot  waters,  with  the  motor  power 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  25 

of  oxen.  Theodore  Winthrop  wrote,  that  "whenever  the 
engine-driver  stopped  to  pick  a  huckleberry,  the  train, 
self-braking,  stopped  also,  and  the  engine,  or  '  bullgine', 
took  in  fuel  from  the  tall  grass  that  grew  between  the 
sleepers."  But  few  traces  of  these  rails  now  remain,  and 
horse-power  has  been  substituted  for  that  of  the  more 
patient  ox. 

As  the  Colonel  and  I  progressed,  we  became  quite  ab- 
sorbed in  commenting  on  the  features  of  the  route  over 
which  we  had  both  travelled  so  frequently.  The  sun 
shone  brightly,  the  birds  were  twittering  merrily  on  the 
twigs  at  the  side  of  the  path,  insects  and  other  nonde- 
scripts buzzed,  chirped,  hummed,  and  squeaked  with 
ready  avail  of  the  true  American  privilege  of  free  speech  ; 
but  so  concerned  were  we  in  our  talk  that  we  failed  to 
notice  for  some  time  that  there  was  room  enough  in  the 
air  for  other  music,  which  we  did  not  hear.  In  fact,  we 
missed  the  sonorous  jolt  and  rumble  of  the  wagon-wheels 
behind  us.  Looking  back,  to  our  surprise,  we  found  that 
the  vehicle  was  not  in  sight. 

"A  break-down,"  I  suggested;  "let  us  go  back  and  see 
what  has  happened." 


26  PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE. 

Retracing  our  way,  in  a  few  moments  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  wagon.  It  was  standing  stock-still  in  the  road. 
As  we  ran  up  beside  it,  we  found  our  caravan  in  a  most 
distressing  situation.  The  horses  were  standing  before 
the  clumsy  wagon  as  motionless  as  statues,  and  with  for- 
ward-pricked ears  and  firmly  planted  feet  were  stubborn- 
ly refusing  to  move  a  step,  while  the  driver  and  our 
guides  were  dancing  around  them  with  the  grace  of 
frantic  Zulus,  inciting  them  to  energy  with  the  aid  of 
sticks  snatched  from  the  roadside. 

"What's  the  matter?"  we  inquired. 

"  Can't  git  the  'tarnal  brutes  to  budge  a  step,"  cried 
Hiram,  desisting  from  the  chastisement,  and  dropping 
his  stick  upon  the  road  in  sheer  exhaustion. 

"What's  the  reason  you  can't?  Let  me  get  at  them!" 
cried  the  Colonel,  furiously. 

"Don't,  Colonel,"  I  pleaded,  as  my  comrade  began  to 
pirouette  in  the  Zulu  dance  with  flourished  stick. 
"There's  no  telling  what  is  the  cause  of  their  inability. 
Perhaps  the  poor  creatures  have  corns." 

"No,  they'avent;  no  sir-ee!"  cried  the  driver,  meeting 
my  remark  with  a  howl  of  indignation.  "Nary  a  spavin. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  27 

a  heave,  nur  a  corn  abeout  them  ar  hosses,  I'd  hev  ye 
know.  Finest  breed  that  was  ever  raised  in  Maine ; 
they  cum  all  the  way  from  Californy." 

"Then  why  don't  they  stir  their  stumps?"  demanded 
one  of  the  guides  in  a  voice  that  made  the  animals 
quiver. 

"No  cross-questioning.  At  them  again  with  the  sticks, 
boys!"  cried  the  Colonel.  "We'll  put  life  into  them." 

"  No,  no  ye  can't.  Thar's  only  one  thing  kin  inspire 
them  ar  hosses." 

"What's  that?"  I  asked,  breathlessly. 

"Oats,"  replied  the  driver,  mournfully. 

"Then  where  are  the  oats?  Bring  out  the  oats!" 
cried  the  Colonel. 

"  Aint  got  none.     They've  all  giv  out." 

"Then  where's  the  bag,"  I  cried,  with  a  desperate  idea. 
"Give  me  the  bag,  and  I'll  start  them." 

The  driver  threw  me  the  big  oat  bag  from  the  interior 
of  the  wagon.  It  fell  into  my  arms  like  a  collapsed 
balloon.  Taking  a  position  in  front  of  the  horses,  I  held 
it  at  arm's  length  toward  their  noses. 

"Now,"  I  cried  to  the  guides  ;    "get  behind  the  wagon 


28 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


and  push.     Between  two  fires   the  engine  cannot  fail  to 
move." 

"You're    mad!  Tom,"  cried    the    Colonel,  with    a   look 
of  supreme  disgust. 


"Never  mind,"  said  I;  "there's  method  in  my  mad- 
ness, as  you'll  soon  see;"  and  he  did  see,  for  the  next 
moment  the  horses,  sniffing  the  oat  bags,  sprang  for- 
ward with  a  desperate  spurt  after  me.  All  the  way 
along  the  road,  I  held  the  oat  bag  dancing  before  their 
eyes  like  an  ignus  fatuus.  At  times,  however,  the  an- 
imals half  suspected  the  deceit,  and  seemed  inclined  to 
lose  faith  in  the  feeling  of  man  and  lag.  This  made  our 
progress  rather  spasmodic;  but  they  were  never  suf- 
fered to  come  to  a  halt,  for  at  every  threatened  relapse 
the  guides  stood  ready  to  do  propeller-power  behind. 

"This  is  Rapid  Transit  with  a  vengeance,"  cried  the 
Colonel,  as  he  strode  after  us  convulsed  with  laughter. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  29 

We  travelled  in  this  way  for  some  time,  until  we  reach- 
ed the  West  Branch  of  the  Penobscot,  where  the  driver 
and  his  dashing  equipage  were  cheerfully  dismissed 
and  we  took  to  the  water  in  our  canoes.  Thus  the  last 
link  between  us  and  civilization  was  broken.  The  wa- 
ter was  very  low,  and  we  found  ourselves  ushered  into 
a  difficult  passage.  This  was  the  dryest  season  expe- 
rienced in  Maine  for  many  years. 

The  water  courses  displayed  such  masses  of  huge 
rocks  and  uncovered  stretches  of  gravel  beds  that,  at  a 
distance,  one  would  have  thought  them  logging  roads 
rather  than  the  beds  of  large  rivers.  Constantly  we 
were  obliged  to  step  overboard  and  lift  our  canoes  over 
obstructions,  and  often  we  sighed  for  the  aid  of  horse- 
flesh, of  better  calibre,  however,  than  that  we  had  just 
parted  with. 

After  two  hours  of  alternate  dragging  and  paddling 
we  shot  into  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  and  made  our 
first  camp  half  a  mile  above  Moosehorn  Stream.  Then 

"  There  was  hurrying  to  and  fro ;" 

the    baggage    was  thrown   out  of  the   canoes,  the  latter 


jo  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

were  drawn  up  on  the  bank  and  overturned  to  dry ;  the 
tents  were  unrolled,  the  poles  were  struck,  and  two  of 
the  guides  busied  themselves  in  their  erection,  while 
John  Mansell  woke  the  echoes  of  the  woods  with  the 
resounding  blows  of  his  heavy  axe  as  he  cut  the  logs 
and  fuel  for  the  camp  fire,  and  the  Colonel  and  I,  seizing 
our  rifles,  sauntered  forth  with  sanguinary  strides  to  de- 
crease the  population  of  the  forest  game  in  the  interest 
of  our  first  meal.  When  we  returned  we  found  every- 
thing under  way  ;  the  log  fire  was  crackling  merrily,  be- 
fore which  were  squatted  the  guides  on  upturned  pails. 
Around  them  was  scattered  in  picturesque  confusion  our 
full  culinary  paraphernalia,  consisting  of  tea  and  coffee- 
pots, kettles,  frying-pans,  tin  cups,  bakers,  broilers,  etc., 
out  of  which  assortment  they  were  selecting  the  utensils 
needed  for  our  meal.  They  looked  like  a  band  of  itiner- 
ant tinkers. 

Tossing  Hiram  a  brace  of  partridges  the  Colonel  and 
I,  arranging  the  Tourograph  apparatus,  obtained  a  pho- 
tograph of  our  first  camp.  Soon  after  that  supper  was 
announced,  after  which  sleeping  accommodations  engaged 
our  attention.  Going  toward  our  tent  we  found  that 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


Nichols,  the  Indian,  had  carpetted  it  as  well  as  those  of 
the  guides  with  fragrant  boughs  of  hemlock.  But  our 
two  large  rubber  beds  yet  remained  to  be  inflated.  The 
size  of  these  were  36  x  80  inches.  The  Colonel  and  I 
began  to  devise  a  plan  for  swelling  them  without  taxing 
our  physical  resources.  We 
soon  agreed  that  the  only  way 
out  of  the  difficulty  was  the  ar- 
rangement of  a  match  on  time 
between  two  of  the  guides. 
Hiram  and  the  Indian  seized 
upon  our  proposition  instantly, 
and  their 
rival  wind 
powers 


THE  BEST   MAN   TO   WIN. 


were  soon  tested.     Stretching  the  collapsed  rubber  bags 
side    by    side,    they    spread    themselves    flat    upon    the 


34  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

the  ground  in  similar  positions,  and  placing  their  mouths 
at  the  apertures  received  the  signal,  and  began  to  blow 
as  if  for  dear  life.  The  Colonel  and  I  held  our  time- 
pieces in  our  hands,  and  watched  the  struggle  with  amuse- 
ment. They  had  both  powerful  lungs  and  the  bags  were 
soon  inflated.  As  they  withdrew  from  the  contest,  the 
veins  swelled  upon  their  foreheads  like  whip-cords,  and 
their  fiery  red  faces  glowed  with  the  color  of  a  harvest 
moon. 

"Who  wonee?"  gasped  the  Indian,  as  he  passed  the 
sleeve  of  his  grey  shirt  across  his  perspiring  face.  The 
Colonel  and  I  consulted,  and  not  desiring  to  discourage 
either  of  the  guides  from  a  repetition  of  the  act  we  de- 
clared the  match  a  tie. 

By  this  time  night  had  set  in.  But  we  did  not  hasten 
to  bed;  no,  indeed.  Stretching  ourselves  before  the  big 
log  fire  we  revelled  in  the  raptures  of  a  scene  of  which 
the  tourist  can  never  tire — the  last  wakeful  hours  of  the 
camp  at  night,  those  hours  so  rife  with  merriment,  so  rich 
with  unbosomed  anecdote,  when  the  first  story,  springing 
from  the  innocent  seed  of  palpable  truth,  becomes  a  prey 
to  those  succeeding  ones  which  bear  the  hideous  stain  of 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  35 

doubt.  Exaggeration  is  wonderfully  prolific.  "India- 
rubber  yarns"  are  told  in  endless  variety,  each  one  being 
a  super-test  of  the  elasticity  of  the  whole.  Then  some 
one  falls  into  the  error  of  telling  the  truth,  and  his  story 
is  howled  at  as  being  weak  and  unpalatable.  Finally 
some  one  tells  the  "whopper"  of  the  evening,  which  bids 
defiance  to  retaliation  and  sends  the  party  to  bed  in  first- 
class  trim  for  weird  dreams.  A  bomb-shell  of  this  kind 
from  the  Colonel  was  the  cause  of  our  dispersal,  and  ex- 
changing "good  nights"  we  entered  our  tents.  Then, 
while  the  camp  fire  still  burned  on,  while  the  bark  curled 
from  the  trunks  of  the  big  birch  logs,  while  the  cedar 
snapped  with  its  merry  crackle,  while  the  shadows  of  the 
leaping  Maine  and  smoke  danced  fantastically  upon  the 
ruddy  tent  walls — we  slept. 


CHAPTER  II. 


"  A  band  of  hunters  were  we.     All  day  long 
Our  feet  had  trail'd  the  woods."— STREET. 

MOVING  ON.— FINE  STREAM   FALLS.—  CHESUNCOOK  LAKE 
AND    FARM.— UMBAZOOKUS    CARRY.— A    DRY    GROUND 
SLEIGHING    PARTY. —FURTHER    EXPERIENCE    WITH 
THE   HORSE.— A  GLIMPSE  OF  DESOLATION.— CHAMBER- 
LIN  LAKE.— A  VISION.— EAGLE  LAKE.- 
,    SMITH  BROOK.— HAYMOAK  FALLS.— 
TROUT   STORIES. 

RIGHT  and  early  the  next  morn- 
ing tents  were  struck,  canoes  load- 
ed, and  soon  we  were  afloat  upon 
the  waters  of  the  Penobscot,  hop- 
ing to  reach  the  mouth  of  the  riv- 
er by  nightfall. 

Nightfall? 
Perish    the    fond    and    audacious    expectation.     It    was 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


37 


not  until  four  days  subsequently,  after  a  running  battle 
with  difficulties,  that  we  passed  the  Pine  Stream  Falls 
and  entered  Chesuncook  Lake. 


CHESUMCOOK  LAKE. 


There  is  a  farm  upon  this  lake.  It  consists  of  a  wil- 
derness of  ground,  and  a  collection  of  rickety  sheds,  clus- 
tered like  barnacles  to  a  major  "  pile,"  which  you  sus- 
pect to  be  the  homestead. 

There  is  nothing  pretentious  about  the  architecture. 
It  is  of  a  rather  complex  order,  and  the  span  of  life  never 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


seemed  to  me  so  short  as  at  the  moment  I  attempted 
to  determine  it.  Such  a  view  of  angles,  horizontals,  and 
perpendiculars  never  before  greeted  my  eyes.  It  was 
simply  distracting.  The  designing  genius  must  have  suf- 
fered with  a  cast  in  his  eye,  or  a  mind  disordered  through 
indigestion. 


CHESUNCOOK  FARM. 


jfr* 


I 

m^" 

These  farm  buildings  stand 
alone  in  a  wild,  open  tract  of 
country.  The  sight  of  them  strikes  you  instantly  as 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE.  jp 

strange  and  unaccountable.  At  first  you  wonder  and 
half  believe  yourself  in  the  vicinity  of  Ararat  and  a  de- 
bilitated ark.  Then  you  shudder  and  give  thought  to  a 
terrible  suspicion — a  small -pox  hospital,  perhaps  !  Final- 
ly, unable  to  reach  a  plausible  conclusion,  you  forget  you 
are  in  Maine,  and  in  generous  sympathy  with  the  glory 
awarded  to  all  the  super-dilapidated  buildings  of  the  low- 
er states,  declare  at  once  that  the  pile  must  be  the  old 
headquarters  of  General  Washington. 

We  made  a  brief  stay  at  this  farm,  spending  most  of 
our  time  in  duck  and  plover  shooting. 

We  then  paddled  across  the  lake  and  passed  up  Um- 
bazookus  Stream,  dragging  our  canoes  most  of  the  way. 
We  landed  at  a  carry  on  the  right  bank. 

During  the  previous  season,  while  visiting  this  region, 
we  had  pushed  further  up  the  stream  to  what  is  known 
as  "Mud  Pond  Carry,"  sacking  our  entire  kit  to  Mud 
Pond.  But  a  longing  for  the  almighty  dollar  has  since 
been  aroused  in  the  heart  of  one  Smith,  who  having 
erected  a  house  and  barn  a  short  distance  from  the  land- 
ing, now  transports  the  tourist's  canoe  and  supplies  six 
miles  to  Mud  Pond,  across  Umbazookus  Carry. 


4o  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

As  we  neared  the  house  we  fired  a  gun  in  signal  of 
our  approach,  and  were  met  by  a  man  and  a  boy  who 
rushed  forth  from  the  adjoining  barn.  Then 


A  party  through  the  Maine  wilds  bound 
Cried  "  Good  man,  do  not  tarry  ; 
But  tow  us  o'er  the  boggy  ground 
Of  Umbazookus  Carry."* 


Whereupon  the  man  and  the  boy  began  immediate  prep- 
arations for  the  transport. 

Hastening  to  the  woods  they  soon  appeared  with  four 
bony  animals  in  harness  that  put  one  more  in  mind  of 
the  rigging  of  a  clam  boat  than  the  trappings  of  horses. 
These  were  attached  to  two  large  wooden  sleds  made  of 
tree  branches,  upon  which  were  placed  our  birch  canoes, 
swung  by  an  adjustment  of  ropes  to  four  stanchions  at 
their  sides,  while  the  spaces  underneath  were  occupied 
by  our  baggage. 

These  clumsy  vehicles,  with  their  strangely  arranged 
cargo,  presented  a  novel  and  picturesque  sight,  which  I 
thought  a  good  subject  for  the  Tourograph,  and  "photo'd" 

*  Copyrighted  1881. 


MBAZOOKITS   STKKAM. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


43 


before  starting-.     Then,  amid  the  cheering  of  our  guides, 
the  horses  were  whipped  up,  and  we  were  soon  underway, 


sliding  across  the  logs,  bouncing  over  the  rocks,  and  pitch- 
ing along  through  the  mud  like  a  fishing-smack  founder- 
ing in  a  storm. 

The  Colonel  and  I  strode  ahead  with  our  guns,  secur- 
ing partridges  by  the  way,  closely  followed  by  Hiram's 
team.  Soon  we  heard  a  shout,  and  looking  back  saw 
his  horses  rearing  and  plunging,  and  the  sled  stopped 
short  before  a  tree. 

"What's  up?"  we  cried. 


44  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

"This  left  hand  nag-  here  is  a  Tartar,"  replied  Hiram, 
as  he  tugged  and  jerked  at  the  reins.  "  I  tri^d  to  tack 
and  leave  that  'ere  tree  on  the  starboard  quarter,  but  I'll 
be  blamed  if  he  haint  sot  me  into  it  all  kerchunk  on  the 
port  bow.  Say,  gineral!"  he  yelled,  turning  ferociously 
toward  Smith;  "what's  the  matter  with  this  here  ani- 
mile  of  yours?" 

"Which  one?  That  one?"  asked  Smith.  "I  meant  to 
warn  ye  consarnin'  him.  He  must  be  handled  mighty 
gingerly.  Takes  an  ingineer  to  run  him  properly." 

"Why,  for  sin's  sake?"  inquired  Hiram. 

"  He's  cross-eyed,  an'  he  allers  leans  hard  toward  the 
west." 

"Cross-eyed!  Poor  crittur,"  murmured  Hiram,  sym- 
pathetically, as  he  laid  the  lash  along  the  animal's  ribs. 
"  How'd  it  happen?" 

"  Don't  know  exactly.  Born  so,  I  expect ;  but  I  heerd 
say  onst  that  the  children  o'  the  people  who  had  'im  afore 
me  dropped  a  nail  into  his  feed  bag.  Don't  know  how 
true  it  is." 

Hiram  struggled  desperately  with  the  reins  to  free  the 
sled,  but  without  success. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  45 

To  back  the  craft  would  have  required  more  than  the 
entire  strength  of  the  party,  so  John  Mansell's  axe  came 
into  play,  the  tree  was  felled,  and  leaping  over  its  stump 
the  sled  was  soon  bounding  on. 

After  three  hours  of  heavy  toil  for  both  horses  and 
men,  we.  completed  the  six  miles,  and  arrived  at  the  un- 
interesting sheet  of  water  called  Mud  Pond. 

"Jemima!"  cried  Hiram,  as  he  surveyed  the  pond  and 
gauged  the  depth  of  the  water;  "how  are  we  going  to 
get  across?" 

"  Have  to  dig  a  channel  with  our  paddles,"  said  John. 

"Me  think  so — yes!"  ejaculated  the  Indian,  as  with  a 
miss-step  he  almost  sank  from  sight  in  the  mud. 

A  channel  was  soon  made,  canoes  repacked,  and  by  dint 
of  hard  poling  we  reached  deep  water,  and  paddled  for  the 
opposite  shore  a  mile  distant. 

On  arriving  the  same  difficulties  which  prevented  our 
embarking  delayed  our  landing,  and  at  one  time  it  looked 
as  if  each  man  would  make  his  canoe  his  camp  for  the 
night.  But  just  as  the  sun  set  we  managed  to  land,  and 
pitched  our  tents  in  the  dark. 

Mud  Pond  Stream  being  almost  dry,  we  were  forced 


46  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

the  next  morning  to  carry  our  canoes  and  kit  almost  a 
mile,  depositing  them  at  last  in  the  stream  which  flows 
through  the  moose  barren  bordering  on  Chamberlin 
Lake. 

Here  we  found  ourselves  in  a  wild,  desolate  country. 
The  stream  along  which  we  moved  ran  through  an  im- 
mense tract  of  bog,  which  was  dotted  here  and  there  with 
old  stumps  reaching  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  every  di- 
rection. This  was  bounded  in  the  dim  distance  by  a 
dead  wood  forest,  which  enclosed  it  completely  like  a 
chcvaux  de  frise.  Within  this  was  presented  a  most  lu- 
gubrious landscape.  It  was  the  picture  of  a  region  dead 
to  the  world  and  to  itself.  The  old  grey  stumps  scattered 
about  seemed  like  storm-beaten  tombstones  which  mark- 
ed the  resting-places  of  perished  souls,  and  the  naked, 
bleached  forms  of  the  trees  in  the  palisade  like  sentinel 
skeletons  guarding  a  death  ground. 

Soon  with  our  three  canoes  in  line  we  entered  the  wa- 
ters of  Chamberlin  Lake.  There  we  were  suddenly  start- 
led by  hearing  a  loud  splash  in  the  water,  and  greeted 
with  the  vision  of  an  immense  bull  caribou,  which  sprang 
up  and  instantly  disappeared  in  '•he  woods  before  we  could 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  49 

tender  him  the  slightest  compliment  at  the  pleasure  of 
the  meeting. 

"Confound  the  luck!"  yelled  John,  throwing  aside  a 
rifle  in  exasperating  disappointment. 

"Exceedingly  impolite  of  the  beast  to  decamp  so  sud- 
denly "  said  the  Colonel,  as  we  examined  the  animal's 


CHAMBERLIN    FARM. 


tracks;  "he  would  have  weighed  three  hundred  pounds, 
if  an  ounce!" 

Chamberlin  Lake  is  eighteen  miles  long,  three  miles 
wide,  and  is  one  of  the  largest  bodies  of  water  in 
Maine.  At  this  point,  the  preceding  year,I  turned  south 
through  the  East  Branch  of  the  Penobscot,  and  landed 
at  Mattawamkeag  on  the  European  and  North  American 
Railroad.  This  year  our  course  lay  directly  to  the 
north. 

At    Chamberlin     Farm    we    made  -a    brief    stay,  and 


PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 


purchased  an  extra  supply  of  hard  tack, 
sugar,  and  molasses,  as  our  stores  were 
running  short.  Then  turning  our  backs 
on  the  lovely  peaks  of  Mt.  Katahdin 
and  the  Soudahaunk  range,  which  lay 
to  the  southwest,  we  buffetted  the 
waves  of  the  lake  for  six  miles,  landing 
at  the  locks  which  divide  its  waters 
from  those  of  Eagle  Lake  below. 

Here  we  went  into  camp,  and  the 
Tourograph  was  brought  into  impor- 
tant requisition  while  a  benign  and 
smiling  sun  was  at  its  best.  And  here 
we  were  delayed  for  three  days  after- 
wards, through  a  go-as-you  please  rain- 
storm, during  which  we  tried  the  cam- 
era while  the  aforesaid  benign  and 
smiling  sun  was  at  its  worst,  hid- 


Was  Biocess~ 

^ 


HAYMOAK    FALLS. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  53 

den  away  like  an  unfortunate  trade-dollar  during  the 
storm  of  repudiation. 

When  the  weather  grew  favorable,  we  followed  the 
current  of  Chamberlin  River  one  mile  down  to  Eagle 
Lake  below. 

Some  people  think  of  Maine  as  a  state  containing 
only  one  large  lake  with  an  innumerable  number  of 
smaller  ponds  within  its  borders,  but  the  tourist  visiting 
these  regions  for  the  first  time  is  daily  surprised  by 
bodies  of  water  which  fairly  compete  with  the  area  of 
Moosehead.  Eagle  Lake  is  thirteen  miles  long,  with  an 
average  measurement  of  three  wide.  Within  its  bosom 
it  nurses  two  islands,  while  the  horizon  of  its  northern 
extremity  is  broken  by  the  cone-shaped  peak  of  Soper 
Mountain. 

Our  next  camp  was  made  at  the  mouth  of  a  beautiful 
stream  near  here,  which  writhes  under  the  opprobrious 
title  of  Smith  Brook.  This  innocent  sheet  of  water, 
which  I  am  certain  has  done  naught  to  merit  the  igno- 
miny it  suffers,  presents  most  picturesque  beauties  in  its 
windings  as  far  as  Haymoak  Falls. 

There  we  discovered  the  skull'  of  a  large   moose,  and 


54  PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 

extracted  the  great  teeth,  fearing  they  would  be  the  only 
souvenirs  we  should  obtain  of  that  almost  extinct  ani- 
mal. 

"My!"  said  the  Colonel,  as  he  pried  out  one  of  the 
grinders;  "what  a  surface  for  a  tooth-ache!" 

There,  also,  we  had  splendid  fishing,  and  captured 
many  large  trout. 

The  day  before  we  broke  up  camp  we  had  a  run  of 
sport  that  well-nigh  astonished  us,  and  that  night  at  the 
evening  meal  we  had  a  rare  fish  feast,  served  with  the 
following  sauce  : 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  believe  this  yarn  I'm  goin' 
to  tell  ye  or  not,"  said  Hiram,  as  he  added  another  verte- 
bra to  the  pile  of  trout  skeletons  accumulating  by  his 
plate;  "but  it's  true  as  gospel,  nevertheless  an'  notwith- 
standing, an'  with  me  the  truth  is  like  the  stump  of  a 
back  tooth — it  must  cum  out.  You  know,  Nichols, 
where  the  old  farm  road  from  Greenville  to  Dexter 
crosses  the  bridge  at  Spectacle  Pond?" 

"Me  know,"  said  the  Indian,  scarcely  raising  his  eyes 
from  the  fire. 

"Wall,  I  was  guiding  for  Doctor  L.  and  Squire  B.  one 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  55 

day  in  that  region,  which  happened,  by  the  way,  to  be 
a  pet  fishin'  ground  o'  their'n.  As  we  were  gittin'  along 
to  the  bridge,  the  Doctor,  all  of  a  sudden,  says  to  the 
Squire,  '  If  you've  no  objections,  Rufe,  I'll  slip  ahead  of 
you  and  cast  my  flies  under  that  bridge,  for  ten  to  one 
I'll  strike  a  big  fish,  as  I  saw  some  mighty  fine  trout 
there  the  other  day  while  crossing  to  see  my  patient  in 
the  old  farm  beyond.'  The  Squire  told  him  to  go  by  all 
means,  but  to  have  some  mercy  for  the  sport  of  other 
people  an'  not  to  altogether  clean  the  brook.  With 
that  the  Squire  turned  around,  an'  began  to  amuse  him- 
self at  pistol  practice  with  my  old  hat  that  I'd  set  up  for 
a  target  on  a  tree,  an'  the  Doctor,  he  pegged  down  the 
road  like  mad  toward  the  bridge.  I  stood  an1  watched 
him  jest  for  fun,  for  he  was  a  comical  old  duck,  an'  so 
nervus  an'  fussy  that  I  'spected  like's  not  to  see  him  tum- 
ble overboard.  Reaching  the  spot  he  made  a  dozen  or 
so  wild  casts,  but  at  last  succeeded  in  landin'  his  flies 
under  the  bridge,  when  he  took  a  seat  on  a  projectin' 
beam,  an'  let  the  current  sweep  'em  out.  Quicker'n  ye 
could  say  Jack  Robinson,  I  heard  a  shout ;  the  Doctor's 
rod  almost  bent  double,  an'  he  begun  reeling  in  for  dear 


PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 


life.  '  I've  got  him,  Mansell ;  I've  got  him.  Come,  quick! 
he's  the  biggest  fellow  I  ever  hooked.'  Grabbin'  the 
landin'  net,  I  ran  over  the  bank  to  help  him.  It  looked 
for  all  the  world  as  if  he'd  ketched  a  shark,  but  as  soon 

as  I  reached  the  other 
side  an'  saw  the  game 
a  flappin'  on  the  surface, 
I  give  a  shout  that  al- 
most blew  me  to  pieces, 
an'  rollin'  down  on  the 
bank,  I  roared  until  ev- 
ery 'tarnal  rib  was  sore. 
What  d'ye  guess  had 
hold  of  the  old  fellow's 
line?  Why,  nothin'  less 
than  a  big  Shanghai 
rooster!  The  animile,  as  I  found  out  after,  belonged 
to  the  farm  near  by.  It  had  been  hatched  and  raised 
with  a  brood  of  ducks,  an'  bein'  quite  a  water-nimp,  as 
they  call  it,  had  strolled  into  the  stream  to  have  a  pick 
at  the  Doctor's  flies.  I  tell  ye  what,  so  long  as  he  lives 
the  Doctor'll  never  forgit  that  bite,  for  the  shock  of  the 


GOOD   SPORT. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  57 

discovery  knocked  him  clean  off  the  beam  into  the  water, 
where  I  clapped  the  landin'  net  on  his  old  bald  head  an' 
fished  him  out  like  a  drowned  rat.  I  don't  know  how 
true  it  is,  but  they  say  that  ever  since  he  took  that  bath 
ther'  hain't  been  another  trout  seen  about  the  brook." 

"Which  puts  me  in  mind  of  another  fish  story,  in 
which  I  arid  an  old  schoolmaster  friend  of  mine  are  con- 
cerned," said  the  Colonel,  as  Hiram  concluded.  "Out 
trouting  once  we  suddenly  met  on  our  way  to  the  brook 
a  dog,  which  sneaked  out  from  a  patch  of  woods  and  be- 
gan to  follow  in  a  close  trot  at  our  heels.  We  were 
taken  somewhat  by  surprise  at  his  appearance,  because  of 
the  loneliness  of  the  country,  for  there  was  no  house 
within  miles  of  us,  and  we  were  puzzled  to  think  where 
he  had  come  from.  He  looked  the  picture  of  starv- 
ation. His  skin  was  literally  hanging  on  him,  and  the 
body  was  so  thin  and  sunken  that  we  almost  heard  his 
ribs  playing  a  bone  chorus  as  he  jogged  behind  us.  We 
fed  him  with  a  portion  of  our'  lunch,  which  he  devoured 
greedily.  Finding  himself  favored,  he  followed  us  to  the 
trouting  ground.  Spy  ing 'out  a  beautiful  quiet  brook  we 


58  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

sat  down  on  the  bank  and  cast  our  flies.  The  sport  was 
instantaneous,  and  for  a  while  continued  and  exciting, 
during  which  time  the  Professor  had  the  good  fortune 
to  capture  some  half-dozen  trout,  which  equalled  in  weight 
and  beauty  anything  I  had  ever  seen.  When  the  luck 
was  on  the  wane  we  reeled  in  our  lines,  and  turned 
about  to  gather  together  our  'catch,'  which  during  the 
sport  we  had  thrown  behind  us  on  the  grass.  Sudden- 
ly the  Professor  gave  a  gasp.  '  Great  heavens !'  he  cried ; 
' My  half-dozen  beauties!  Where  are  they?'  We  search- 
ed the  bank,  but  they  could  not  be  found.  'Is  it  pos- 
sible that  any  one  is  prowling  about  these  parts  and  has 
crept  behind  us  and  stolen  them?'  he  said.  'I  don't  think 
that  likely,'  I  replied.  At  the  same  time  my  attention 
was  attracted  to  an  object  lying  at  the  base  of  a  tree.  It 
was  our  dog — thin,  starved  and  miserable-looking  no 
longer,  but  swelled  out  as  fat  as  a  potato -bag,  and  wag- 
ging his  tail,  and  smacking  his  jaws  in  heavenly  trans- 
port. . ' Professor,'  said  I;  'look!'  'What!  Another  dog /' 
gasped  the  Professor.  'No,  the  same  dog  with  varia- 
tions,' I  said;  'thanks  to  the  expansive  properties  of 
trout,  a  little  rosier  in  health.'  The  Professor  guessed 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE.  59 

the  truth  and  gave  a  groan.  He  danced  about  like  a 
lunatic  and  kicked  the  dog  until  it  began  to  snap  at  his 
legs.  Then  with  a  heavy  heart  he  packed  his  traps  and 
we  left  the  animal  at  the  tree  enjoying  its  siesta.  '  Fate 
could  not  harm  him — he  had  dined  that  day.'" 

Rare    treats,  these    fish    feasts.     Rare    tack,  these    fish 
stories.     But,  reader,  beware  of  bones. 


CHAPTER  III. 


'  But  who  can  paint 

Like  Nature?     Can  imagination  boast, 
Amid  it's  gay  creation,  hues  like  hers  ?" — THOMSON. 


IN  ROUGH  WATER.— NORTH  TWIN  STREAM.— AN  INDIAN 
PADDLE  EOR  FUTURE  USE.— BREEZES,  BLANKETS,  COLD 
AND  ICE.— SPIDER  LAKE.— MANIFOLD  CHARMS  OF 
CAMP  LIFE.— AT  WORK  WITH  THE  TRAPS.— CONCERN- 
ING BEAVER.— WE  PROCLAIM  OUR  INTENTIONS. 


ARLY  on  the  morning  of  Sep- 
tember 23d  we  continued  down 
Eagle  Lake  and  through  the 
"  Thoroughfare  "  to  Churchill 
Lake.  Then  a  change  came  o  'er 
the  spirit  of  the  weather.  It 
grew  suddenly  colder,  and  as  our  three  canoes  pro  wed 
into  the  lake  a  sharp  breeze  sprang  up  which  ruffled  its 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE.  61 

usually  calm  surface  into  a  restless  quiver.  As  the  breeze 
increased  to  a  "blow"  the  waves  were  lashed  into  white 
caps,  and  then  into  billows,  until  our  fragile  birch-barks 
were  tossed  about  like  corks. 

Each  breaker  seemed  ready  to  engulf  us ;  but  we  ship- 
ped little  water,  for  the  inventive  genius  of  the  Colonel 
had  devised  a  novel  covering  for  the  bows  of  our  canoes. 

It  consisted  of  a  strip  of  white  canvas  extending  aft 
about  two  feet,  which  was  stretched  and  secured  to  a 
brass  hoop  arched  across  the  canoe,  and  fastened  with 
brass  pins  or  pegs. 

This  made  the  bow  of  the  canoe  resemble  the  fore -part 
of  an  immense  Chinese  shoe.  All  articles  liable  to  dam- 
age by  exposure  were  thus  secured  from  the  spray  of  the 
waves  and  passing  rain  showers.  It  proved  a  capital 
nook  for  the  storage  of  the  camera,  guns,  ammunition, 
etc.,  and  was  quite  a  suggestion  to  Nichols,  who  was  an 
old  canoe  maker. 

Our  course  lay  through  the  Eastern  arm  of  Churchill 
Lake,  a  distance  of  only  six  miles,  the  larger  body  of 
these  waters  lying  to  the  north,  and  having  for  their  out- 
let the  Allaguash  River. 


62  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

At  one  o'clock  we  beached  our  canoes  and  erected  our 
tents  at  the  mouth  of  North  Twin  Stream. 

As  we  supped  that  night  on  broiled  partridge  and  stew- 
ed duck,  we  little  dreamed  of  the  hardships  which  lay  to 
the  eastward,  between  us  and  the  waters  of  the  great 
Aroostook  River. 

Since  leaving  our  camp  on  Mud  Pond  Stream,  Nichols 
had  been  hard  at  work  at  odd  moments  on  a  long  pad- 
dle. From  a  rough  maple  log-split,  it  had  gradually 
been  shaped  into  a  thing  of  beauty,  and  now  with  pride 
was  being  curiously  ornamented  with  all  the  artistic  ex- 
ecution of  which  the  Indian's  deft  hand  was  capable. 

"Me  beat  you,  boys,  when  I  get  to  the  '  Roostook,"; 
said  Nichols,  with  a  sly  twinkle  of  his  eye,  as  from  under 
his  black  felt  hat  he  cast  a  triumphant  look  at  the  other 
guides. 

"But  perhaps  we  shall  never  get  there  unless  it  rains," 
said  John. 

"  Me  think  so,  too,"  chimed  in  Hiram,  trying  to  imi- 
tate in  tone  of  voice  the  Indian's  favorite  expression. 

"When  the  'Pioneers  of  the  Aroostook'  pushed 
through  this  country  last  season, '  said  the  Colonel,  glanc- 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


ing  at  me  with  an  air  of  superiority,  "we  experienced  no 
difficulty  in    continuing   our   voyage  one  mile  above   to 


•P"  Marsh  Pond.  On  ex- 
amination, since  land- 
ing, I  find  we  shall  be  obliged  to  'carry'  around  the  ob- 
structions, and  it  will  detain  us  a  day." 


64  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

That  night  we  found  use  for  all  the  spare  blankets  in 
camp,  and  John  was  repeatedly  aroused  to  replenish  the 
fire. 

"What's  the  matter,  Colonel?"  I  asked,  as  gazing  out 
from  under  my  warm  blankets  on  the  morning  of  Sept. 
24th  I  discovered  my  compagnon-du-voyage  dancing  be- 
fore the  fire  and  rubbing  his  hands  with  "invisible  soap." 

"Well,  you  just  turn  out  and  see.  There  is  half  an 
inch  of  ice  in  our  camp  pails,  and  a  fair  chance  for  skat- 
ing on  the  Lake.  We  shall  have  to  take  to  snow-shoes, 
if  this  weather  holds  on." 

The  tents,  stiff  with  frost,  were  packed  in  bags,  and  in 
"Indian  file"  at  the  right  of  North  Twin  Stream  we 
started  for  Marsh  Pond,  each  man  burdened  to  the  ut- 
most. Again  and  again  we  repeated  our  trips,  between 
lake  and  pond,  sinking  in  the  mud  one  instant,  slipping 
on  some  frosty  rock  the  next,  and  not  until  late  in  the 
afternoon  were  our  canoes  and  the  last  loads  of  our  kit 
safely  landed  at  Marsh  Pond. 

Paddling  through  this  water,  its  name  being  typical  of 
its  character,  we  ascended  a  small  stream  at  its  head  on 
our  way  to  Spider  Lake. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


"Me  think  it  getting  dark,  boys,"  said  the  Indian,  "and 
we  better  make  camp  at  once." 

So  hauling  our  canoes  on  shore  we  cast  about  for  the 
most  desirable  spot. 

There  was  no  choice;  it  was  an  immense  swamp  in 
whatever  direction  we  travelled.  We  sank  almost  to 
our  knees  in 
the  moss  and 
decayed  un- 
derbrush. 
Once  the  In- 
dian, floun- 
dering in  the 
mud  with  our 

tent  -  poles,  disappeared  com- 
pletely from  sight,  and  we 
might  have  lost  him,  but  the 
poles  sticking  up  like  bare 
flag-staffs  through  the  dense 
brush  which  masked  the  rnarsh  pools,  disclosed  the  spot 
where  he  had  sunk  from  view.  When  we  dragged  him 
out,  he  looked  like  a  muskrat. 


LOW— THE    POOR    INDIAN. 


66 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


"  Nichols  is  trying  to  discover  an  underground  road  to 
the  Aroostook,"  said  Hiram.  "Guess  he's  given  up  all 
thought  o'  usin'  that  long  paddle  on  them  'ere  waters." 
This  place  proved  the  worst  camping  ground  of  the 
whole  trip,  but  despite  this  fact  it  had  its  charms.  The 
tourist  soon  grows  to  despise  the  consideration  of  per- 
sonal comfort,  when  self-sacrifice  is  required  to  bring 
him  in  direct  association  with  the  nature  which  infatuates 

him.  He  becomes  like  the 
poet  or  painter,  a  creature 
purely  spiritual,  who  raves 
in  the  rapture  of  exalted 
soul  while  his  boots  ship 
water  by  the  gallon,  while 
scarcely  a  rag  hangs  to  his 
back,  and  low-dwindling 
provisions  place  him  on  ra- 
tions intimate  with  starva- 
tion. 

DEVELOPING    A   PLATE.  JJ^  fc  ^   ^fa  ^         Q^ 

surroundings  were  unpleasant,  but  apart  from  this,  as  we 
saw  them,  interestingly  picturesque. 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE.  69 

Here  we  were  in  the  presence  of  a  great  dead  forest. 
Across  the  pools,  the  rocks,  and  the  brush  growth  lay 
the  trunks  of  monster  trees  prostrated  by  the  winds, 
storms,  and  decaying  processes  of  nature.  Trees  were 
piled  on  trees  in  huge,  insurmountable  barriers,  each 
one  bearing  on  the  other  with  a  crushing  force  that  tore 
through  the  limbs  and  logs,  and  pressed  the  massive  pile 
clown  deep  into  the  soft  vegetation  of  the  marsh. 

All  was  grey  and  lifeless.  It  seemed  as  if  nature  had 
lain  unresurrected  since  the  Deluge,  and  that  the  trees 
had  twisted  about  and  embraced  each  other  in  their  dy- 
ing agonies.  All  was  dead!  dead!  dead!  The  only  sign 
of  life  upon  them  was  the  deep  moss  that  flourished  on 
the  decayed  and  weather-beaten  trunks;  but  this  was 
like  the  grass  above  the  grave. 

The  next  day  for  lack  of  water  we  dragged  our  canoes 
through  the  remainder  of  the  river  to  Spider  Lake,  and 
camped  on  a  high  ledge  of  rocks  on  the  Southern  shore, 
its  dry  and  picturesque  position  being  in  delightful  con- 
trast to  our  last  quarters.  This  lake,  three  miles  long  and 
half  a  mile  wide,  set  among  these  forest  depths  like  a 
jewel  in  a  ring,  reflects  ten  mountain  peaks  on  its  surface. 


70  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

On  our  way  to  camp  we  examined  a  point  of  rocks 
jutting  far  out  into  the  lake,  whose  curious  construction 
attracted  our  attention.  It  was  a  perpendicular  pile  of 
corrugated  stone  crowned  with  a  tall  growth  of  spruce 
trees,  which  swept  like  Indian  head-plumes  to  a  hill-top 
beyond. 

The  rocks  at  this  time  arose  fifteen  feet  from  the  wa- 
ter, but  their  well-worn  sides  indicated  their  covering  in 
any  but  a  dry  season.  At  their  base  we  discovered  deep, 
subterranean  cavities,  made  by  the  action  of  the  water, 
and  into  these  with  curiosity  we  pushed  our  canoes  bent 
on  a  full  investigation.  Some  were  only  slight  excava- 
tions, suggesting  the  dwelling-places  of  large  trout,  or 
the  coverts  of  the  fur  animals  abounding  in  the  vicinity, 
but  there  were  others  of  considerable  space,  into  which 
we  passed  without  difficulty.  Within  all  was  gloomy 
and  damp,  and  the  motion  of  the  water  against  the  cold, 
slimy  walls  made  a  strange  phase  of  music  which  echoed 
mournfully  through  the  caverns.  They  seemed  like  the 
abodes  of  spirits;  we  could  scarcely  repress  a  shudder 
at  the  weird  effect  of  the  scene. 

Many  times  afterward  did  we  recall  with  pleasure  the 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


73 


delightful  experiences  of  our  sojourn  at  Spider  Lake. 
The  charming  comforts  of  a  dry  and  well-pitched  camp, 
the  exhilarating  sport  by  the  trout  pools  among  the 
rocks  not  twenty  feet  from  the  tent  door,  the  partridge- 
shooting  in  the  woods,  the 
ducking  on  the  lake,  the  ad- 
ventures of  exploration,  and 
the  grand  scenic  surround- 
ings which  we  still  admire 
in  the  souvenirs  afforded  by 
photography,  have  made 
those  too  fleeting  hours 
"red-letter  days"  in  our 
memory. 

"You  are  not  proposing 
to  desert  this  lovely  camp 
so  soon?"  I  said  to  the  Col- 
onel, as  we  stood  in  the  tent 
door  gazing  out  on  the  lake  some  days  later.  It  seems 
a  pity  after  spending  so  much  labor  about  the  camp  to 
leave  at  once." 

"Well,  we  cannot  tarry  long;    we  little  know  what  is 


EVACUATION. 


74  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

before  us  if  the  water  courses  remain  dry ;  our  birch  ca- 
noes will  not  endure  the  strain  much  longer,"  was  the 
Colonel's  reply.  And  so  we  bade  farewell  to  this  charm- 
ing spot. 

At  night  we  reached  Logan  Pond.  Before  our  tents 
were  in  position  we  were  overtaken  by  a  drenching  rain 
storm,  which  we  fought  through  with  philosophical  pa- 
tience, hoping  it  would  increase  the  water  along  the  route. 
It  takes  true  grit  to  endure  without  complaint  a  rain-storm 
in  the  woods,  and  one  must  have  an  abundance  of  cheer- 
fulness to  keep  from  murmuring. 

"You  had  better  set  those  beaver  traps  to-night,"  said 
the  Colonel  to  the  Indian,  as  he  stood  drying  himself  be- 
fore the  fire,  and  turning  about  from  one  side  to  the  other 
like  a  roasting  turkey. 

"Yes,  me  think  so,  too,"  replied  Nichols;  and  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  he  soon  started  off  down  the  hill 
with  the  iron  traps  over  his  shoulder,  I  following  him, 
bent  upon  investigating  all  the  mysteries  of  wood- craft. 

"You  see  beaver  house  over  there?"  whispered  the 
guide,  as  we  reached  a  mud  dam  at  the  outlet  of  the  lake, 
at  the  same  time  pointing  out  to  me  a  cone-shaped  knob 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  75 

of  mud  and  sticks  about  ten  feet  high  and  six  feet  in 
diameter.  "One,  two,  three  beaver  live  there,  and  me 
set  traps  to  catch  one  to-night.  Beaver  build  house 
with  door;  then  build  dam  and  raise  water  to  cover 
door  to  house." 

Slipping  into  the  woods  the  Indian  soon  returned  with 
a  cedar  pole  ten  feet  in  length  and  four  inches  in  diam- 
eter at  the  butt.  With  his  axe  he  split  this,  and  slipping 
over  it  the  chain  ring  of  the  trap,  secured  it  in  position 
by  a  wedge.  The  trap  was  then  opened  and  lowered 
carefully  into  the  water,  and  after  driving  the  pole  into 
the  mud,  the  upper  end  was  made  fast  with  twisted 
grasses  to  a  neighboring  tree. 

What  was  our  joy  on  arising  the  next  morning  to  see 
Nichols  returning  from  the  pond  lugging  a  fine  beaver  of 
over  forty  pounds'  weight,  held  in  position  on  his  shoul- 
ders by  a  withe  of  cedar  bark  encircling  his  forehead. 

"Me  lost  another  beaver,"  said  the  Indian,  as  he  drop- 
ped the  heavy  animal  before  the  tent  door  for  our  exam- 
ination, and  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  dusky  fore- 
head. "Beaver  cut  pole  in  pieces  and  run  with  trap. 
Me  hunt  pond  all  over,  but  no  find  him;"  and  he  display- 


7 6  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

ed  as  much  sorrow  over  the  loss  as  if  it  had  been  a  small 
fortune. 

The  fur  of  the  animal  was  in  excellent  condition.  He 
was  three  feet  in  length,  with  tail  5  x  12  inches,  half  an 
inch  in  thickness,  and  covered  with  black,  shining  scales 
of  leather-like  toughness. 

"  Is  there  any  truth  in  the  story,  Nichols,  that  the  bea- 
ver uses  his  tail  to  build  his  dam?" 

"No!  no!"  replied  the  guide,  as  laying  the  animal 
across  his  lap  he  commenced  to  rob  him  of  his  "jacket." 
"  No  beaver  do  that.  He  use  tail  to  make  noise  to  other 
beavers.  It  slap  on  water,  make  sound  like  pistol,  and 
give  alarm.  Beaver  push  mud  and  stones  from  bed  of 
river  with  front  feet  to  make  dam,  and  when  build  house 
walk  up  straight  on  hind  feet,  and  hold  to  breast  sticks 
and  stones  with  front  feet.  No  one  hunt  beaver  who 
tell  such  stories." 

The  animal  was  soon  dressed  and  stewed  for  our  break- 
fast. Its  taste  was  similar  to  that  of  corn  beef,  but  of  a 
much  more  delicate  flavor,  the  liver  being  reserved  as  a 
choice  dish  for  the  next  meal.  The  tail  was  one  mass  of 
solid  fat,  which  only  the  Indian,  after  toasting  it  before 


PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE.  77 

the  fire,  could  digest.  The  skin  was  stretched  on  a  hoop 
four  feet  in  diameter  laced  with  strips  of  cedar  bark,  a 
shingle  of  wood  being  used  in  spreading  the  skin  of 
the  tail. 

"Me  no  like  this,"  said  the  Indian,  arising  after  the 
completion  of  his  work.  "In  my  tribe,  brave  trap  bea- 
ver; squaw  dress  him." 

"Which  is  a  much  superior  way,"  observed  the  Colo- 
nel. "Thus  all  the  world  over  the  gallant  brave  saddles 
upon  the  poor  woman  the  undaintiful  share  of  the  work. 
A  great  pity,  Nichols,  that  circumstances  in  your  life  have 
abolished  the  custom,  as  far  as  you  are  concerned." 

"Me  think  so;  yes,"  replied  the  Indian,  with  just  the 
faintest  idea  of  what  the  Colonel  meant ;  and  as  he  turned 
to  wash  the  grease  and  blood  from  his  warrior  hands  he 
looked  the  picture  of  dignity  dethroned. 

After  a  few  days  tarry  we  pushed  on  across  Logan 
Pond,  made  half  a  mile  carry  to  Beaver  Pond,  and  camp- 
ed on  Osgood  Carry  at  the  head  of  the  last  water. 

"What  do  you  find  so  interesting?"  I  inquired  of  the 
Colonel,  as  I  saw  him  examining  minutely  the  side  of  an 
old  tree  not  far  from  the  tents. 


78  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

"Oh!  nothing  special,  except  a  record  I  made  last  year 
regarding  the  'Pioneers  of  the  Aroostook,'  which  the 
winter  storms  have  failed  to  obliterate." 

"Then,  before  we  go,  we  had  better  leave  some  relic 
of  this  tour,"  I  said. 

Accordingly  a  photographic  plate  which  had  been  spoil- 
ed by  sudden  contact  with  the  light  was  drawn  from  my 
Tourograph,  and  scratching  the  names  of  the  party  on  its 
surface,  we  nailed  it  to  the  tree  for  the  benefit  of  the  next 
comer,  adding  as  a  suggestion  of  our  destination  "  ON  TO 
THE  AROOSTOOK!" 


CHAPTER 


1  The  wise  and  active  conquer  difficulties 
By  daring  to  attempt  them :  sloth  and  folly 
Shiver  and  shrink  at  sight  of  toil  and  hazard, 
And  make  the  impossibility  they  fear." 


OSGOOD  CARRY.— THE  PACK  HORSE  LEAGUE.— NOVEL 
TRICK  IN  PEDESTRIANISM.— CAMP  ON  ECHO  LAKE.— 
HIRAM  TELLS  A  STORY. —SLUICING  A  DAM.— MORE 
CONCERNING  BEAVER. —CAMP  AT  THE  MANSUNGUN 
LAKES. 

MAGINE  the  difficulties  we  surmounted 
in  our  passage  across  Osgood  Carry  to 
Echo.  Lake. 

With  the  exception  of  an  occasional 
beaver,  duck,  partridge,  or  string  of 
trout  captured  on  the  way,  we  were 
obliged  to  carry  provisions  sufficient  for  five  men,  who 
never  failed  in  their  attendance  at  meals  three  times  a 


8o  PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 

day,  and  with  appetites  which  only  wood  life  can  stimu 
late. 

Add  to  these  provisions  the  weight  of  three  tents, 
three  blankets  for  each  man,  rubber  beds,  personal  bag- 
gage, cooking  utensils,  guns,  ammunition,  rods,  a  Touro- 
graph  with  seventy  five  glass  plates,  and  three  canoes 
weighing  from  eighty- five  to  one  hundred  pounds  eac  h 
and  you  have  an  idea  of  the  toil  and  hardships  of  a  tramp 
through  this  wilderness. 

This  "Carry"  is  the  water-shed  of  the  St.  John's  and 
Aroostook  Rivers,  and  passes  over  a  succession  of  hills, 
through  swamps,  and  wind  falls. 

Although  one  trip  across  is  but  two  miles,  a  return 
for  a  second  load  makes  four,  and  four  trips  carrying 
during  half  the  time  all  one  can  bear  on  his  shoul- 
ders makes  sixteen  miles,  a  fair  day's  tramp  in  a  country 
where  not  even  a  "spotted  line"  guides  the  traveler  to 
his  destination. 

At  the  time  of  our  appearance  there,  the  ground  after 
the  recent  rain  was  in  a  soft,  soggy  condition,  which 
made  the  way  slippery  and  tedious. 

As  we   pushed   forward   loaded   down   with   our  traps, 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  Si 

frequently  did  a  misstep  send  one  of  our  number  "to 
grass,"  and  smother  him  among  the  articles  which  con- 
stituted his  burden.  Our  progress,  as  Hiram  observed, 
"was  slower  than  cold  molasses." 

For  every  step  taken  forward  we  slipped  two  back- 
ward, until  the  idea  was  suggested  to  us  of  turning 
about  and  walking  in  the  opposite  direction,  that  we 
might  travel  faster. 

"Me  fix  your  load  for  the  'Carry,'"  said  Nichols  to 
me,  as  I  started  off  with  "what  I  supposed  I  should  be 
able  to  transport  without  halting;  "I  show  you  how  to 
fix  pack." 

Stepping  aside  into  the  woods  he  cut  from  a  cedar 
broad  strips  of  bark,  and  passing  them  about  my  chest 
outside  of  my  arms,  fastened  them  to  a  roll  of  blankets 
on  my  back.  On  top  of  this  he  mounted  my  Touro- 
graph,  and  held  it  in  place  by  another  strap  across  my 
forehead. 

Like  a  horse  being  harnessed,  I  stood  motionless, 
while  he  placed  my  rifle  on  one  shoulder,  my  shot  gun 
on  the  other,  and  hung  to  them  an  iron  tea  kettle,  cups, 
and  various  other  cooking  utensils. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


Everything  ready,  and  having  burdened  himself  with 
a  much  heavier  load  arranged  in  like  manner,  we  started 
off  up  the  side  of  the  mountain  in  search  of  Echo  Lake. 


THE    PACK    HORSE   LEAGUE. 


It  was  hard  work.  Soon  I  was  boiling  with  perspira- 
tion, and  the  Indian  puffing  like  a  grampus.  It  seemed 
like  a  veritable  "first  of  May"  in  the  wilderness. 

Occasionally  as  a  fallen  log  crossed  our  path  we  could 


AT   NIGHT   HY   THE   CAMP-FIRE. 


PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE.  85 

relieve  our  aching"  shoulders  by  resting  the  load  thereon, 
but  never  for  a  moment  did  we  change  its  position. 

Then  on  we  would  tramp,  over  rocks  and  through  the 
mire,  the  stillness  of  the  woods  unbroken  save  by  the 
crackle  of  twigs  beneath  our  footsteps,  or  the  occasional 
grunt  of  the  Indian  guide. 

From  early  dawn  until  late  at  night,  dividing  our  party 
at  times  into  sections,  we  labored  with  our  baggage, 
transporting  it  but  half  the  distance,  from  whence  it  was 
forwarded  by  a  second  relay  of  guides  the  remainder  of 
the  way,  and  landed  in  safety  at  our  camp  on  Echo  Lake. 

In  this  vicinity  we  discovered  in  the  crotch  of  an  aged 
tree  an  old  folding  canvas  canoe.  This  the  Colonel,  with 
a  burst  of  delight,  recognized  as  one  deserted  by  the 
"Pioneers  of  the  Aroostook"  in  their  excursion  of  the 
previous  year.  Running  short  of  provisions  they  had 
been  forced  to  abandon  it,  and  make  for  the  settlements 
as  quickly  as  possible  in  their  other  two. 

That  night  about  the  camp-fire  the  Colonel  told  us  the 
story  of  their  privations,  and  how  their  final  meal  con- 
sisted of  nothing  but  the  boiled  bone  of  a  salt  ham  sea- 
soned with  the  last  crumbs  of  hard-tack. 


86  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

This  story  suggested  others  of  the  same  kind,  and 
many  and  interesting  were  those  retailing  the  experi- 
ences of  our  guides.  I  give  the  following,  told  by  Hi- 
ram, of  the  man  who  was  the  first  to  make  maps  of 
Moosehead  Lake  and  its  vicinity.  It  gives  an  idea  of 
the  rigors  and  danger  incident  to  a  journey  through  the 
woods  of  Maine  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and  may  not  be 
uninteresting : 

"  Ye  never  heerd  me  tell  about  the  man  who  fust  tried 
to  make  maps  o'  these  'ere  woods,  did  ye?"  said  Hiram, 
as  he  tossed  an  extra  log  upon  the  fire.  "Wall,  it's  a 
long  story ;  but  I'll  try  an'  load  the  cart'idge  so  the  bullet 
won't  go  far,  as  I  see  Nichols  a-blinkin'  over  there  like 
an'  owl  at  high  meridian.  It  was  'long  about  the  Au- 
tumn of  1870,  if  I  remember  right,  that  a  feller  by  the 
name  o'  Way  cum  up  from  down  below  an'  took  board 
in  Greenville,  foot  o'  Moosehead  Lake.  He  was  quite  a 
spruce  lookin'  chap  for  these  'ere  regions,  an'  though 
still  under  twenty-one  years  of  age,  had  seen  a  deal  o' 
the  world  in  his  little  day.  Wall,  Johnny  (that  was  his 
name,)  had  come  to  rough  it,  an'  take  his  chances  for 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


87 


life  with  the  rest  of  us,  though  it  was  said  he'd  heaps  o' 
money,  an'  mighty  fine  fixins'  at  home ;  but  he  was  one 
of  them  advent'rous  splinters  as  are  allers  flyin'  round 


'BY  DINT  o'  PUSHIN'  AN'  HAULIN' — ' 


a-wantin'  to  see  more  an'  more,  an'  git  into  wuss  an' 
wuss  every  step  they  go.  Us  boys  was  mighty  busy 
that  year  a-loggin',  an  he  enj'yed  the  fust  winter  so  rat- 
tlin'  well  among  us  that  he  cum  back  the  next  season. 
When  the  snow  got  good  an'  deep  in  Jan'wary,  an' 
snow-shoein'  was  just  fine,  we  two  arranged  a  huntin' 
trip  an'  started  out  with  our  rifles  an'  all  the  provishuns 
we  could  truss  on  our  backs  toward  Chamberlin  Farm. 
We  hunted  about  there  some  days,  but  finally  made  a 
hand- sled,  strapped  our  kit  on  to  it,  and  by  dint  o'  pushin' 


88  PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 

and  haulin'  made  our  way  over  the  fruz  surface  o'  Cham- 
berlin  and  Eagle  Lakes  to  Smith  Brook.  Next  day  we 
pushed  on  to  Haymoak  Brook  an'  as  it  cum  on  to  rain 
we  built  a  hut  of  bark  and  camped. 

"Johnny  was  a  restless  feller,  an'  fur  all  tired  out  with 
the  pull  through  to  camp,  thought  if  we  were  goin'  to 
stay  long  and  hunt  we'd  better  lay  in  more  provishuns. 
He  was  a  plucky  little  feller,  too,  an'  'though  not  much 
used  to  the  woods,  could  foller  a  'spotted  line'  with  the 
best  o'  ye.  So  he  made  up  his  mind  to  switch  back  to 
Chamberlin  Farm  an'  git  enough  provishuns  to  last  out 
the  trip.  I  thought  this  a  rather  crazy  freak,  for  I  felt 
pretty  sartin  we  could  manage  to  pan  out  with  what  we 
had.  But  Johnny  wanted  to  be  sure.  Like  all  city  fellers 
he  had  a  peevish  bread-basket,  an'  fur  all  he'd  spirit 
enough  to  rough  it  in  other  ways,  he  couldn't  weather 
the  trial  of  goin'  without  his  straight  meal  no-how.  I 
did  all  I  could  do  to  hold  him  back,  but  it  was  no  use ; 
then  I  offered  to  go  back  with  him,  but  he  was  bent  on 
doin'  the  trip  alone,  an'  leavin'  me  to  rest  in  camp.  So, 
after  buryin'  his  part  o'  the  kit  in  the  snow,  he  stood 
ready  to  start. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  89 

"  He  did'nt  want  to  go  back  the  same  way  we  had 
come,  but  had  planned  to  skirt  round  back  o'  the  lakes, 
you  know — a  mighty  unsartin  kind  of  bizness,  boys,  for 
a  feller  raised  in  a  hot-house. 

"But  he  plead  so  hard  I  finally  give  in  to  him,  an'  with 
the  point  o'  my  ramrod  I  marked  out  his  course  in  the 
wet  snow.  Says  I,  'You  see  here,  Johnny,  that  mark  I 
jist  made  goes  across  Haymoak  Lake  to  Stink  Pond. 
Now  don't  you  forgit  it,'  says  I,  'to  keep  right  on  your 
course  to  Fourth  Lake,  for  that  there  line  leads  into 
Little  Leadbetter  Pond,  an'  by  a  foot-track,  will  take  ye 
to  Chamberlin  Lake,  an'  then  yer  all  hunk.  There's  an 
old  log  camp  on  the  Leadbetter,  right  there,'  says  I,  dig- 
gin'  the  rod  into  the  snow.  '  Don't  go  further  than  that 
to-night.  Camp  there,  no  matter  how  early  ye  reach  it ; 
lie  over  till  mornin'  an  then  push  on.' 

"It  was  the  wuss  snow  shoein'  I  ever  did  see,  and  I 
ought  not  to've  let  the  boy  go,  but  I'd  said  yes,  an'  I'm 
not  one  of  them  fellers  who  goes  back  on  his  word. 

"I  buckled  on  Way's  haversack,  filled  it  with  graham 
bread,  stuck  his  hatchet  in  his  belt,  slung  his  rirle  over 
his  shoulder,  and  with  many  misgivin's  saw  him  disap- 


90  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

pear  in  the  woods.  After  he'd  left  I  commenced  to  get 
kind  o'  nervus  like,  an'  wish  I  hadn't  let  him  go.  Afore 
night  I  begun  to  feel  terrible  skittish  about  him.  I  lit  my 
pipe,  cleaned  my  gun,  cut  boughs  and  bark  from  the 
trees  to  make  our  camp  more  snug,  an'  tried  by  fussin' 
round  to  git  the  lad  out  o'  my  mind ;  but  'twant  no  use 
— it  didn't  work  wuth  a  cent.  So  buryin'  the  balance 
of  our  kit  in  the  snow  I  started  back  to  Chamberlin 
Farm  by  the  old  path  and  camped  that  night  on  Hay- 
moak  Lake,  reaching  the  farm  the  next  night. 

"You  will  bet  boys  I  was  scared  to  find  that  Way 
had  not  got  in,  but  I  thought  p'raps  he  was  restin'  at  the 
old  log  camp  I  had  pinted  out  for  him  on  the  Leadbetter. 
John  the  "toter"  came  along  the  next  morning  from  the 
logging  camp — don't  you  think,  he  had'nt  seen  a  hair  of 
him  either.  Wall,  the  way  I  got  into  them  snow-shoes 
was  a  caution — the  deer's  hide  was  gathered  over  my 
toes  and  heels  quicker  than  a  trout  takes  a  fly,  and  I  was 
a-slidin'  off  into  the  woods  like  mad.  I  kept  goin'  and 
goin'  hour  arter  hour,  as  if  the  devil  hisself  was  arter 
me;  it  was  the  best  time  I  ever  made  on  snow-shoes, 
even  on  a  moose  track. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


<;At  2  o'clock  I  reached  Way's  camp  of  the  night  be- 
fore, and  follerin'  his  'stoat'  (track)  I  kept  on  arter  him 
and  in  two  hours  saw  him  stumblin'  along  through  the 
snow  in  front  o'  me  like  a  lost  sheep.  I  give  a  shout  of 

joy,  and  then  a  wild  hal- 
loo, as  I  dashed  on  arter 
him.  But  he  plunged  on 
without  turnin'  a  head — 
he  did'nt  seem  to  hear 
me.  I  hailed  him  agin 
with  no  better  effect, 
'Somethin's  up.  He's 
not  hisself  by  a  long 
sight,'  I  said  to  myself;  an'  the  way  I  put  forrard  through 
that  snow  would  have  done  honor  to  a  pair  o'  the  seven 
leagued  boots.  Jist  as  I  come  up  with  him,  an'  was  about 
plankin'  my  paw  down  on  his  shoulder,  I  heerd  him  give 
a  gasp,  an'  then  he  stumbled  an'  fell  in  a  parfect  heap  at 
my  feet. 

'"Johnny!  Johnny!'  says  I,  'Brace  up.  Hiram's  here, 
and  yer  all  safe.'  But  he  was  so  far  gone,  he  skarce 
knew  me.  To  his  belt  was  tied  a  partridge;  but  this 


92  PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 

was  all  the  provishuns  he  had  left,  an'  with  his  half  froze 
hands  he  could  but  jist  hang  on  to  his  rifle.  I  took  his 
gun  an'  haversack,  an'  goin'  before  broke  down  the 
big  drifts  with  my  snow-shoes,  an'  cleared  a  track  for  him 
to  foller.  But  he  was  so  weak  an'  benumbed  with  cold, 
that  every  little  while  he  dropped  in  the  snow  like  a 
wounded  animile,  an'  begged  me  to  let  him  alone. 

" '  Hiram,'  he  moaned,  '  I  can  go  no  further.  I  am  so 
tired.  I  feel  so  sleepy.  Go  on  yourself,  an'  leave  me 
here.'  But  I  warn't  a  lad  o'  that  kind.  I  knew  pesky 
well  what  that  there  sleepiness  meant ;  it  meant  nothin' 
less  than  a  closin'  of  eyes  once  an'  forever ;  he  would 
have  been  cold,  stiff,  stone  dead  in  half  an  hour.  It 
didn't  take  me  more'n  a  brace  o'  minutes  to  find  a  remedy 
for  this.  Whippin'  out  my  old  knife  I  cut  down  a  stick 
from  one  o'  the  young  trees  on  the  road,  an'  the  way  I 
laid  it  round  that  poor  feller's  body  would  have  been  a 
sight  for  the  chicken-hearted,  I  tell  ye.  I  beat  him  like 
an  old  carpet  until  his  bones  were  sore.  I  fairly  warmed 
him,  which  was  jist  what  was  wanted;  an'  what  with 
whippin',  kickin'  him,  an'  at  times  cartin'  him  along  on 
my  back,  we  soon  made  mile  after  mile  on  our  way. 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE. 


93 


"Those  were  long  hours  flounderin'  on  through  the 
snow;  but  at  last  we  reached  Chamberlin  Farm,  though 
to  tell  a  gospel  truth  I  felt  we  never  would  git  in. 

"  As  luck  would  have  it  there  was  a 
doctor    there    from    East   Corinth,  an' 
with  his   help  we  were  .^oon  at  work 
with  snow  gittin'  the  frost  out  of  John- 
ny's  hands    an'    feet,   an'   pumpin'   life 
into  him.      In  a  week  he  was  up  an' 
about,  good    as    new,  an' 
hunted    with    us    till    the 
followin'  April  afore  goin' 
out  o'  the   woods. 

"As  I  learned  from  him 
arterwards,  Johnny  had 
lost  his  way  between 
Fourth  Lake  and  Leadbetter  Pond.  The  snow  there 
was  over  three  foot  deep,  an'  as  the  rain  had  clogged  his 
snow-shoes  he  turned  into  an  old  loggin'-road  that  he 
diskivered  an'  this  took  the  poor  feller  right  smack  off 
his  course.  He  follered  the  old  road  till  dark,  an'  not 
comin'  across  the  old  loe  cabin  I  told  him  about,  made 


'BEAT   HIM   LIKE   AN    OLD   CARPET.' 


94 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


for  the  base  of  a  decayed  tree,  which  he  reckoned  was 
fifty  foot  high  at  the  least.  This  he  set 
fire  to,  an'  sat  all  night  watchin'  it  burn 
down.  Fallin'  asleep  towards  mornin', 
when  he  woke  up  he  found  the  merk'- 
ry  had  gone  a  long  way  below  zero,  an' 
that  his  feet,  though  wrapped  in  four  pair 
o'  socks  had  both  frozen.  What  the  poor 
feller  suffered  till  I  found  him  must  have 
been  terrible.  Afore  leavin'  Greenville 
that  Spring,  John  Way  made  the  fust  of 
a  lot  o'  maps  o'  Moosehead  Lake  an'  all 
its  surroundin's.  Arterwards  he  jined 
these  all  into  one,  which  I  used 
to  sell  on  the  boats,  and  this  is 
the  orthority  lor  nearly  all  the 
late  maps  of  these  'ere  regions." 
Beautiful  Echo  Lake, 
the  head-waters  of  the  Aroos- 
took  River,  charms  one  at  once 
by  its  picturesque  location. 
High  mountains  encircle  it,  which  make  the  peculiar 


'SAT  ALL   NIGHT   WATCHIN' 
IT  BURN   DOWN." 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE.  95 

reverberation  from  which  it  takes  its  name,  and  breathe 
into  the  soul  that  sense  of  solitude  so  delightful  to  the 
spiritual  nature. 

We  spent  three  days  here  hunting  and  trapping,  and 
added  three  beaver  to  our  collection  of  furs  and  stock 
of  provisions,  which  latter  was  now  rapidly  decreasing. 

On  breaking  camp  we  explored  the  outlet  of  the  lake, 
and,  finding  the  stream  very  dry,  were  obliged  to  build 
dams  in  order  to  sluice  our  canoes  through  this  country 
to  the  Mansungun  Lakes  below. 

"I  tell  you  that  water  is  cold,"  said  John  Mansell,  as 
he  waded  ashore  after  putting  the  last  mud  and  stone 
upon  a  dam  opposite  the  camp.  "  You  don't  call  this  a 
canoe  tour,  do  you,  Hiram?  I  should  call  it  going  over- 
land to  New  Brunswick.  Never  did  see  such  a  dry  time 
in  my  life." 

The  water  having  greatly  increased  during  the  night, 
we  loaded  our  canoes  and  placed  them  in  line  above  the 
dam,  each  man,  with  the  exception  of  the  Colonel,  being 
in  his  customary  position. 

"Are  you  all  ready?"  yelled  the  Colonel,  standing  on 
the  top  of  the  dam  below  us. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


"Ready!"  was  answered;  and  with  the  blade  of  his 
paddle  he  threw  the  mud  and  rocks  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  the  pent-up  waters  of  three  days'  detention  swept  us 
down  the  stream  a  long  way  on  our  voyage.  The  Col- 


BEAVER  DAM — FOUR  FEET  HIGH — ONE  HUNDRED  FEET  WIDE. 

onel,  dashing  through  the  woods,  regained  his  canoe  at  a 
bend  in  the  river. 

But  gradually  the  water  receded  from  under  our  barks, 
and  we  were  again  forced  to  take  to  the  stream  and  lift 
our  canoes  over  the  cruel  rocks,  until  we  reached  a  broad 
expanse  of  the  river  below. 

This  pond  was  the  result  of  an  enormous  beaver  dam 
four  feet  high  and  one  hundred  feet  wide. 


SLUICING  A    DAM. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  pp 

"We  better  set  our  traps,"  said  Nichols;  "many  beaver 
here  ;  me  catch  some  to-night,  a  family  of  nine,"  the  In- 
dian's accuracy  regarding  the  points  of  wood-craft  being 
at  times  wonderful. 

"  But  we  cannot  proceed  without  water,"  said  the  Col- 
onel, observing  the  stream  very  dry  below. 

We  therefore  set  our  traps  and  cut  the  dam  to  the 
width  of  over  ten  feet,  through  which  the  water  rushed 
with  velocity,  and  floated  us  quickly  to  the  Third  Mansun- 
gun  Lake.  We  were  detained  only  by  a  few  fallen  trees, 
which  the  axe  in  the  brawny  hands  of  John  Mansell  soon 
cleared. 

Before  it  was  light  the  next  morning  the  Indian's  ca- 
noe was  far  away  on  the  lake  for  an  examination  of  the 
traps ;  he  soon  returned  with  four  immense  beavers, 
whose  aggregate  weight  fell  not  short  of  two  hundred 
pounds. 

"Me  footed  two  more,"  said  the  guide,  exhibiting  the 
webbed  feet  of  the  animals  in  corroboration  of  the  fact ; 
"but  they  very  quick — they  get  away.  I  see  dam  we 
cut  last  night,  and  it  now  just  good  as  new." 

"Good  as  new!"  we  echoed.     "Impossible." 


ioo  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

"True  as  me  stand  here,"  said  Nichols,  at  the  same 
time  glancing  anxiously  into  the  stew  pan,  to  see  if  we 
had  left  him  any  beaver  meat  for  breakfast.  "Beaver, 
they  fell  tree  in  night  ten  inch  thick,  gnaw  it  in  lengths 
three  feet  long,  plant  them  at  cut,  and  heap  with  much 
bark,  mud  and  sticks.  Build  dam  up  in  one  night.  No 
think  it  myself,  if  not  see  it  with  own  eyes.  You  go  see, 
too." 

Astonishing  as  it  may  seem,  the  Indian  was  perfectly 
correct  in  his  statement. 

After  our  toil  on  Osgood  Carry  and  the  stream  below, 
we  rested  over  a  week  on  these  Mansungun  Lakes.  The 
third  Mansungun  Lake,  on  which  we  first  camped,  is  five 
miles  long  and  two  wide.  This  is  connected  by  a  narrow 
outlet  with  the  second  Mansungun  Lake,  which  is  about 
the  same  size  as  the  other,  while  the  first  or  lower  lake  is 
the  smallest  body  of  water,  being  about  two  miles  long 
and  one  wide.  I  fished  and  hunted  in  short  excursions 
from  camp,  and,  with  Tourograph  over  my  shoulder,  I 
was  constantly  in  search  of  the  picturesque.  Nichols  had 
discovered  a  brook  (the  name  of  which  we  afterwards 
learned  was  Chase,)  tumbling  down  the  side  of  a  moun- 


CHASE    BROOK. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


103 


tain  near  our  camp,  and  as  falls  were  a  rarity  on  the  route 
I  spent  half  a  day  in  this  gorge. 

About  this  region  we  had  rare  success  in  our  hunting 
and  trapping,  and  with  many  skins  stretched  on  the  dry- 
ing hoops  about  camp,  and  fresh  animals  coming  in  to 
add  to  the  stock,  our  quarters  gradually  assumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  Hudson  Bay  trading-post. 


CHAPTER  V, 


"  'Tis  night  upon  the  lake.      Our  camp  is  made 
'Twixt  shore  and  hill  beneath  the  pine  trees'  shade. 
'Tis  still,  and  yet  what  woody  noises  loom 
Against  the  background  of  the  silent  gloom ; 
One  well  might  hear  the  opening  of  a  flower 
If  day  were  hushed  a?  this." 

A    VISION    ON    THE    LAKE. —NICHOLS'    BIRCH-HORN. —A 

MIDNIGHT    HUNT    UNDER    A   COLD   MOON.— 

CALLING    THE    MOOSE. 

WO    days    afterwards    the    Colonel    and 
Hiram,  returning     from     an     excursion 
down   the   lake,  drew    their   canoes   up 
on    the    shore,   and    entered    the    camp 
looking    as    sorrowful    and    dejected   as 
a  couple  of  jilted  lovers. 
"What's   the    matter?"   I   asked   with    alarm,  for   John 
Mansell  happened  to  be  out  also,  and  the  fear  struck  me 
at  once  that  something  might  have  happened  him. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  IO$ 

"Matter?  you  would  not  ask  it  if  you  had  been  with 
us  to-day  and  seen  the  moose,"  replied  the  Colonel 
sadly. 


"MOOSE?    YOU  DON'T  SAY  so  !     WHEN?    WHERE?" 

"Moose!  you  don't  say  so!  when?  where?"  I  exclaim- 
ed, and  in  this  frantic  query  I  was  joined  by  the  voice 
of  the  younger  Mansell,  who  at  that  moment  suddenly 
appeared  behind  us  from  the  woods. 

The  Colonel's  voice  choked  itself  in  a  feeble  struggle 
at  reply,  and  stacking  his  Winchester  against  the  back 
of  the  tent,  he  threw  himself  with  a  disconsolate .  air  down 
upon  his  bed.  But  Hiram,  less  crushed  by  the  evident 


io6 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE. 


misfortune,  kindly   obliged   me    with    a  graphic    detail   of 
the  trouble. 

"It  was  down  on  the  second  Mansungun  Lake.     We 
was  paddlin'  up  that  stream  to  the  right,  where  we  shot 


"OH,  SUCH    A   PAIR    OF   HORNS  !" 

the  mink  yesterday,  and  the  Kernel  was  whippin'  the 
stream  with  his  fly  rod,  when  all  of  a  sudden  we  heerd 
a  crackin'  of  the  bushes,  and  then  out  on  the  edge  o'  the 
bank  stalked  one  of  the  biggest  bull  moose  I  ever  did 
see.  He'd  have  weighed  more'n  a  thousand  pound, 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  107 

Nichols,  sure  as  I  stand  here.  Oh,  such  a  pair  of  horns!" 
and  the  guide's  arms  were  raised  in  a  tremendous  ges- 
ture. 

The  Colonel  groaned,  and  raising  himself  on  one  hand 
he  swept  the  other  frantically  through  the  air  and  gave 
us  a  magnificent  idea  of  the  spread  of  the  horns  from  tip 
to  tip. 

"Then,"  continued  Hiram,  "up  started  the  Kernel,  and 
slingin'  his  rifle  to  place  he  pegged  in  the  lead  afore  ye 
could  count  a  brace  o'  winks.  Did  the  bull  drop? — no — 
didn't  even  give  a  quiver,  for  the  ball  cut  wide.  Did  he 
turn  flanks  and  tear  off — no  sir-ee ;  he  waded  nearer  and 
nearer  to  us,  till  he  was  only  eight  rods  off  at  the  most. 
'Pepper  him  agin,  Kernel,  and  fire  low,'  I  whispered, 
a-tryin'  to  steady  the  canoe.  Then  bang!  went  the 
Kernel  agin,  an'  with  a  thunderin'  snort  the  bull  wheel- 
ed 'round,  and  went  smashin'  away  through  the  woods." 

"An'  you  missed  him  clean?"  said  John. 

"No!  not  the  last  shot,  that  hit  him  somewhere  in  the 
neck,  for  we  found  his  blood  on  the  ground  afterwards, 
but  the  first  ball  cut  the  alders  three  foot  over  his  head. 
It  was  the  queerest  thing  you  ever  see.  Why!  I  was 


io8  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

so  sure  of  him,  that  I  was  figurin'  how  I  was  goin'  to 
get  the  carcass  back  to  camp,  an'  smackin'  my  lips  over 
the  steaks." 

"Oh!  don't  speak  of  it!  don't  speak  of  it!  I  shall  never 
have  such  a  chance  again  as  long  as  I  live;  no,  never! 
never!"  and  the  Colonel  threw  himself  back  on  his  blank- 
ets with  a  groan. 

I  smiled  for  an  instant.  I  could  have  "Pinafored"  him 
then  and  there  upon  the  spot.  It  was  a  glorious  chance, 
but  his  gun  was  standing  close  beside  him  and  I  did  not 
dare. 

"But  it's  something  to  have  seen  one,  in  his  native 
wilds,"  I  remarked,  trying  my  best  to  comfort  him;  "the 
animal  will  soon  be  extinct  in  this  country." 

It  was  of  no  use,  and  I  think  that  lost  opportunity 
threw  a  veil  of  sadness  over  the  Colonel's  mind  for  the 
remainder  of  the  tour ;  at  any  rate,  it  was  a  delicate  sub- 
ject to  touch  upon  afterwards. 

"If  moose  so  near,"  said  Nichols,  one  day,  "me  better 
make  horn  and  call  moose  to-night;  no  try,  no  get  him." 

We  thought  this  a  good  scheme,  and  with  the  approval 
of  all  the  Indian  tramped  off  into  the  woods,  and  soon 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


109 


returned  with  a  large  piece  of  birch  bark.  Shaving  the 
edges  with  his  knife,  he  warmed  it  over  the  fire,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  roll  it  up  into  a  great  horn  two 
feet  in  length,  tapering  it  from  six  inches 
to  one  in  diameter,  and  fastening  the 
edges  with  wooden  pegs. 

Nichols  and  I  were  the  only  ones  who 
went  out  on  the  hunt.  Preparing  our- 
selves after  the  evening  repast,  we  step- 
ped into  our  canoes  at  7.30  o'clock.  It 
was  not  a  remarkably  severe  night,  but 
as  I  knew  I  should  be  obliged  to  remain 
for  a  long  time  in  almost  motionless  po- 
sition, I  took  precautions  to  wrap  up  ex- 
tremely well,  and  before  I  returned,  the 
night  chill  had  penetrated  through  it  all 
to  the  very  vicinity  of  my  bones. 

"Most  ready?"  asked  the  Indian,  as  in  this  clumsy 
and  uncomfortable  attire  I  rolled,  rather  than  seated,  my- 
self in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe. 

"Yes;  all  ready,  Nichols!"  and  throwing  the  birch 
moose  horn  into  the  craft  we  paddled  out  into  the  lake, 


THE   DECOY. 


no  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

with  the  best  wishes  of  the  rest  of  the  party  from  the 
shore. 

"If  we  hear  a  shot,"  yelled  the  Colonel,  with  a  look  of 
dubiousness,  "we  will  add  an  extra  log  to  the  fire." 

"And  cut  up  the  balance  of  our  salt  pork,"  added  Hi- 
ram, "for  moose  steak  is  a  little  dry  without  it." 

It  wras  a  clear  night,  and  so  still  that  the  sound  of 
voices  and  the  blows  of  an  axe  at  camp  could  be  easily 
heard  two  miles  across  the  lake.  The  bright  October 
moon  was  gradually  creeping  down  the  western  sky, 
but  shone  enough  to  light  us  on  our  way  many  miles. 

"  She  shone  upon  the  lake 
That  lay  one  smooth  expanse  of  silver  light; 
She  shone  upon  the  hills  and  rocks,  and  cast 
Within  their  hollows  and  their  hidden  glens 
A  blacker  depth  of  shade." 

The  tall  hemlocks  that  fringed  the  shore  threw  their 
shadows  far  out  into  the  lake,  and  in  these  reflections 
the  guide  paddled  from  point  to  point. 

A  slight  rustle  behind  me  and  the  Indian  draws  forth 
the  long  birch  horn,  dips  it  noiselessly  in  the  water,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  my  existence  I  listen  to  the  weird 
sound  of  the  moose  call. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  nj 

Ugh —  ugh— ugh — oo — oo — oo — oo — oo — ugh — ugh ! 

Three  plaintive  "ughs,"  then  a  prolonged  bellow,  com- 
mencing in  a  low  tone,  increasing  in  power  and  volume 
to  the  end,  and  followed  by  two  notes  like  the  first. 

It  rolled  across  the  lake  in  every  direction,  was  tossed 
from  mountain  tops  to  the  inmost  depths  of  the  forests, 
echoing  and  re-echoing.  Then  all  was  hushed,  and  we 
waited  in  silence  the  result.  The  stillness  was  something 
overpowering.  We  held  our  breaths.  At  times,  how- 
ever, it  was  harshly  broken.  Away  toward  the  distant 
shore  some  sportive  animal  would  splash  in  his  gambols 
at  the  water's  edge,  or  a  musk-rat  could  be  distinctly 
heard  gathering  his  evening  meal ;  then  the  prow  of  the 
canoe  would  graze  the  rushes  or  the  lily-pads  with  a 
suddenness  that  was  startling. 

Noiselessly  the  Indian  plied  his  paddle,  and  we  crept 
silently  on  in  the  shadows.  Again  the  horn  was  raised 
to  his  lips,  and  there  came  forth  that  strange  midnight 
call  so  melodious  to  my  ears.  This  was  repeated  again 
and  again  for  six  successive  hours,  neither  of  us  exchang- 
ing a  word  during  the  entire  time. 

At   last   the    stars   alone   cast   their  reflections  in    the 


ii4  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

glassy  lake,  and  although  from  a  distant  mountain  side 
we  at  last  received  an  answer  to  our  call,  we  could  not 
draw  the  animal  to  the  water's  edge. 

We  had  paddled  over  ten  miles.  It  was  now  2  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  we  returned  to  camp.  I  was  too 
stiff  to  move,  and  the  Indian  lifted  me  from  the  canoe 
to  the  shore,  while  I  realized  that  I  had  experienced  all 
the  pleasures  of  moose  hunting — save  the  moose. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


"  And  now  the  thicken'd  sky 
Like  a  dark  ceiling  stood ;  down  rushed  the  rain 
Impetuous."— MILTON. 

DECREASE  OF  OUR  PROVISIONS.— FACE  TO  FACE  WITH 
STARVATION.  — SORE  TRIALS.  —  SHOEING  CANOES.  - 
THROUGH  THE  STORM.— WE  SIGHT  THE  WATERS  OF 
THE  AROOSTOOK.  —  "HURRAH  !" 


5  /<j~ ,FTER  this  adventure  we  moved  our 
camp  to  the  foot  of  the  first  Mansun- 
gun  Lake,  which  has  for  its  outlet  a 
river  bearing  the  same  name. 

After  arranging  our  camp   we  sent 
the  guides  ahead  to  explore  the  coun- 
try in  our  advance,  and  ascertain  the  pitch   of  water  in 
Mansungun   Stream. 

"There's  more  work  ahead,"  said  Hiram,  in  a  discon 


ii 6  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

solate  tone  of  voice  on  returning  to  camp,  "The  water's 
jest  about  deep  enough  to  float  a  turtle.  We're  in  for  a 
long  'drag,'  an'  I'm  afeard  our  canoes  won't  never  reach 
the  'Roostook  waters  unless  somethin's  done  to  pertect 
'em." 

A  council  was  held,  and  at  the  suggestion  of  Nichols, 
we  at  last  decided  to  build  sleds  or  "shoes"  for  our 
canoes,  and  drag  them  through  the  bed  of  the  stream 
twelve  miles  to  the  Aroostook  River. 

Little  by  little  our  provisions  had  given  out.  First 
the  sugar,  then  the  hard  tack  and  coffee,  while  potatoes 
and  Indian  meal  had  been  a  thing  of  the  past  for  many 
days.  The  trout  had  left  the  summer  pools  for  their 
spawning  beds,  and  notwithstanding  the  state  of  our 
larder,  we  had  no  time  to  ascertain  their  whereabouts. 

Occasionally  we  shot  a  duck  or  partridge;  we  added 
plenty  of  water  to  the  stew,  to  make  sufficient  for  the 
party,  and  in  consequence  had  an  unsubstantial  meal. 

For  many  weeks  we  had  subsisted  almost  entirely  on 
the  flesh  of  beavers,  but  now  being  in  haste  we  had  little 
time  to  set  our  traps. 

On  the  2Oth  of  October  starvation  almost  stared  us  in 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  up 

the  face.  Our  breakfast  this  day  consisted  of  the  last 
portion  of  beaver  flesh  and  a  cup  of  tea  without  milk 
or  sugar. 

"  I  believe  I'd  give  ten  dollars  a  mouthful  for  another 


« — WOULDN'T  TAKE  FIFTY  DOLLARS  FOR  IT." 

meal  like  that,  'though  its  only  an  appetiser,"  said  Hiram, 
arising  from  the  frugal  repast. 

"Hiram,"  remarked  the  Colonel,  "puts  me  in  mind 
of  an  Englishman  I  met  some  weeks  ago  at  the  Tremont 
Hotel,  Boston.  The  gentleman  sat  at  my  table,  and  for 
four  mornings  in  succession  I  had  noticed  him  call  for 
dried  herrings  and  coffee,  of  which  he  made  his  entire 


120  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

meal.  I  was  wonderfully  interested,  and  on  the  fifth 
morning,  to  satisfy  my  curiosity,  I  had  the  audacity  to 
question  him;  'I  say,  my  friend,  you  must  excuse  me; 
but  do  you  eat  those  herrings  from  a  medicinal  motive, 
or  because  you  really  love  them?'  'Well,'  he  answer- 
ed, with  a  drawl,  '  I  don't  exactly  love  them,  but  along 
about  1 1  o'clock  in  the  morning  there  creeps  over  me 
such  a  glorious  thirst  that  I  wouldn't  take  fifty  dollars 
for  it!'" 

But  this  was  no  time  for  story  telling,  and  we  imme- 
diately set  to  work  on  the  "shoes"  for  the  canoes. 

The  guides  soon  felled  a  number  of  tall  cedars  and 
dragged  them  into  camp. 

Then  we  split  them  into  boards  ten  feet  in  length,  half 
an  inch  in  thickness,  and  tapering  from  four  to  two  inches 
in  width,  the  broadest  extremities  lapping  one  another 
at  midships. 

Sixteen  of  these  strips  were  necessary  for  each  of  the 
three  canoes,  and  were  fastened  to  their  bottoms  by  be- 
ing split  at  the  edges  and  drawn  tightly  together  \\ith 
strips  of  cedar  bark  which  ran  through  the  slits,  and  pass- 
ing upward  were  tied  securely  to  the  thwarts.  Thus  the 


MANSUNGTTN    HEAD- WATKR. 


PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE. 


123 


graceful  form   of  the  birch  was  lost  in  the  rough  outline 
of  a  boat. 

For  four  days  we  labored  incessantly  at  our  task,  and 
from  the  splitting  of  the  great  logs  to  the  finishing  of  the 

wood  had  as  tools  only 
an  axe  and  a  penknife. 
Fortunately  partridges 
proved  abundant,  and 
on  these  we  subsisted 
during  our  forced  en- 
Di  campment.  A  fine 
otter  four  feet  in 
length  was  shot 
near  camp,  but 
his  flesh  proved 
too  fishy  for 
us,  half-famish- 
ed as  we  were.  A  large  hawk  frightened  by  our  voices, 
dropped  from  his  talons  a  trout  of  over  two  pounds 
in  weight,  suggesting  to  our  minds  Israelitish  experi- 
ence. 

Among  all  trying  circumstances  we  kept  at  work,  and 


A   SKY    PICTURE. 


124  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

cheered    one    another    by  incessant   jokes    on   the   situa 
tions. 

At  last  the  "shoeing"  of  the  canoes  was  accomplished, 
and  repacking  our  luggage,  we  paddled  down  the  dead 
water  of  Mansungun  Stream,  and  passed  falls  five  miles 
below. 

Although  the  morning  was  lowery,  we  little  thought 
we  had  selected  the  worst  day  of  the  entire  tour  for  the 
passage  of  the  river;  but  so  it  proved. 

Soon  the  heavens  grew  dark,  the  birds  sought  shelter 
in  the  wooded  depths,  the  wind  howled  among  the  tall 
forest  trees,  and  the  rain,  beginning  first  with  light  show- 
ers, increased  at  last  in  volume  to  a  perfect  deluge. 

In  the  midst  of  this  we  were  obliged  to  disembark 
from  our  canoes  and  drag  them  through  the  rocky  bed 
of  the  river,  and  the  good  results  of  the  "shoeing"  at 
once  became  manifest. 

"You  look  out  for  the  bow,  me  look  out  for  stern," 
yelled  Nichols,  as  crowding  my  canoe  forward  over  the 
ledges  of  rocks  and  through  the  shallow  water  of  the 
stream  we  pushed  onward,  followed  by  the  remainder 
of  the  party. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  127 

We  soon  realized  that  we  were  in  for  hard  work. 

Mile  after  mile  we  dragged  the  canoes,  at  one  moment 
plunging  into  some  unseen  hole  almost  to  our  waists, 
the  next  instant  striking  a  ledge  with  hardly  sufficient 
water  to  cover  our  feet  while  the  rain  poured  in  torrents 
upon  us.  It  was  water  above  and  water  below,  and  when 
we  were  thoroughly  wet.  it  made  little  difference  from 
which  source  it  came. 

Occasionally  we  reached  water  sufficiently  deep  to 
float  us  a  short  distance,  but  after  a  few  trials  we  found 
it  less  fatiguing  to  remain  in  the  stream  all  the  time. 

I  pulled  and  hauled  until  every  muscle  seemed  strung 
to  the  tension  of  a  fiddle-string,  and  before  the  end  of 
the  ordeal  I  felt  like  a  beast  of  burden. 

So  did  the  others;  but  we  never  grumbled.  A  com- 
mon feeling  inspired  us  with  the  idea  that  it  was  heroic 
sport. 

After  nine  hours  of  toil  and  discomfort,  through  diffi- 
culties that  lasted  for  twelve  miles,  we  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  stream,  and  camped  at  the  junction  of  the  Man- 
sungun  and  Millnoket  Rivers,  our  hardships  forgotten  in 
the  first  sight  of  the  Aroostook  waters. 


128 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


But  for  the  cedar  splits  protecting  the  canoes,  they 
would  hardly  have  withstood  this  rough  experience,  as 
the  knife-like  rocks  had  left  deep  impressions  on  them. 

Our  rubber  bags  had  shielded  our  tents  and  blankets, 
from  the  ill  effects  of  the  storm,  but  the  Tourograph  had 
been  floating  unobserved  in  two  inches  of  water,  which 
destroyed  a  number  of  the  plates,  changing  them  from 
the  "dry"  to  the  "wet  process"  of  photography. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  Now,  my  co-mates,  and  brothers  in  exile, 
Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 
Than  that  of  painted  pomp?  are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court  ?" 

REDEEMED  FROM  STARVATION.  —THE  FIRST  HABITA- 
TION ON  THE  AROOSTOOK.— MR.  BOTTING'S  HOUSE. 
—  THE  TOUROGRAPH  ASTONISHES  THE  NATIVES.— 
PURCHASING  SUPPLIES  AT  MASARDIS.— HOMEWARD 
BOUND.— AU  REVOIR! 


HEN  I  turned  out  the  next  morning 
the  first  thing  I  heard  was  an  excla- 
mation from  the  Colonel. 

"What  a  jolly  place  for  trout!" 
"Trout!"  we  echoed.       "You   don't 
mean  it?" 

"  I  do,  every  time,  my  hearties,"  responded  the  Colonel, 
as  he  cast  his  line  far  out  on  the  surface  of  a  dark  foam- 


I32 


PADDLE  AXD   PORTAGE. 


flecked  pool  at  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers.     The  next 
instant  we    saw    his    rod   bend  like    a   whip-lash,  and   as 

3&. 


the  speckled  prize 
which  weighed 
above  two  pounds 
shot  up  out  of  the 
stream,  five  hun- 
gry men  fastened  their  eyes  on  it  with  ravenous  fascina- 
tion, and  smacked  their  jaws  in  anticipation  of  a  breakfast. 


A   WAITING    BREAKFAST. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  133 

"Bravo,  Colonel!  Do  it  again!"  we  cried,  as  the  trout 
was  landed  ;  and  verily  he  did  it  again  and  again,  while 
we  did  them  all  to  a  brown  in  the  frying-pan. 

During  a  few  days  rest  here  we  secured  a  number  of 
views,  hunted  partridges,  and  captured  four  fine  beaver. 
Aside  from  the  value  of  the  pelts  of  the  latter  animals, 
they  placed  us  once  more  beyond  the  chance  of  starva- 
tion ;  and  having  lived  for  a  month  almost  entirely  on 
their  flesh,  we  had  learned  by  experience  that  it  was 
better  than  nothing. 

We  still  retained  the  "shoes"  on  our  canoes,  for  al- 
though each  day  the  Aroostook  River  grew  deeper  and 
wider,  we  were  obliged  to  repeat  the  experiences  of 
Mansungun  Stream. 

On  we  paddled,  day  after  day.  Soon  we  passed  the 
junction  of  the  Mooseleuk  and  Aroostook  Rivers,  and 
great  was'  our  joy  when  at  last  we  caught  sight  of  the 
first  house  since  leaving  Chamberlin  Lake. 

From  an  architectural  point  of  view  it  would  hardly 
have  interested  the  humblest  carpenter,  but  to  our  long- 
ing eyes  it  was  the  assurance  of  perils  over  and  the 
hardest  part  of  the  tour  accomplished. 


134  PADDLE  AXD  PORTAGE. 

A  rough  log  cabin,  with  barn  adjoining,  and  a  few 
acres  of  cleared  land  constituted  the  farm  of  one  Philip 
Painter.  Here,  as  I  was  focussing  the  camera  for  a  pic- 
ture, a  mother  and  three  children  gazed  on  me  from  the 
window,  and  viewed  my  operations  with  astonishment. 


THE    FIRST   HOUSE    ON    THE    AROOS '  OOK   RIVER. 

But  being  still  over  one  hundred  miles  from  the  end 
of  our  voyage,  the  tarry  was  of  short  duration. 

The  Colonel,  however,  in  prowling  about  the  farm, 
found  time  to  fill  his  pockets  with  a  quantity  of  small 
apples,  no  larger  than  nutmegs,  and  about  as  digestible. 
He  distributed  them  among  the  party  as  we  were  re- 
turning to  the  boats,  imagining  that  he  had  made  a 
glorious  capture. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  i35 

"Splendid,  aren't  they?"  he  said,  as  we  began  to  munch 
them. 

"Anything  for  a  change  from  beaver  stews,"  I  replied. 
"I  feel  that  I  could  take  to  boot-leg  cheerfully." 

A  mile  further  on  another  farm  appeared,  perched 
upon  a  high  bluff. 

"We  must  take  this  place  by  storm!"  cried  the  Col- 
onel. "We  must  find  a  straight  North  American  meal 
if  we  perish  in  the  attempt,"  and  he  led  a  gallant  advance 
toward  the  farm  house.  , 

Mr.  Dotting,  the  proprietor  of  the  place,  appeared  in 
answer  to  our  hail  and  greeted  us  with  a  stare  of  open- 
eyed  wonder.  The  first  words  he  spoke  were  in  com- 
pany with  a  jerking  action  of  his  thumb  toward  the  Tour- 
ograph. 

"What  kind  of  a  machine  do  ye  call  that?"  he  asked, 
eyeing  the  instrument  with  a  profound  glance. 

"Thi-:,"  said  the  Colonel,  hastening  to  explain,  "is  the 
improved  Catling  gun." 

"An*  ye've  come  all  the  way  to  this  God-forsaken 
hole  to  sell  it?"  said  the  man.  "What's  it  fur,  any- 
how?" 


136  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

"Cats,"  replied  the  Colonel,  with  the  gravest  expres- 
sion in  the  world. 

"Wai,  we  ain't  got  no  cats  round  here,"  said  the  man. 
"  Haint  seen  the  ghost  o'  one  in  years." 

"Don't  believe  him,"  I  said,  interposing.  "It's  not  a 
Catling  gun;  it  is  a  camera — an  instrument  for  taking 
pictures — likenesses." 

"Oh!"  drawled  the  man,  "I  see!  He-he!  Queer 
lookin'  affair,  ain't  it?  Looks  like  one  o'  these  patent 
coffee-grinders  I  seed  down  at  'Guster  (Augusta)  when 
I  was  there  last." 

"Sir,  you  insinuate,"  said  the  Colonel.  "We  have 
had  neither  sight  nor  taste  of  coffee  in  weeks,  and  we 
don't  sport  a  coffee-grinder  for  bare  admiration's  sake, 
we  can  tell  you." 

"Which  brings  us  to  our  business,"  said  I.  "We  have 
just  come  from  Moosehead  Lake.  Can  you  get  up  a 
dinner  for  the  crowd?" 

"Wai,  yes,  I  guess  so,"  said  the  man  in  a  half-dubious 
tone,  as  he  took  in  the  calibre  of  the  party. 

Then,  beckoning  us  to  follow,  he  hobbled  back  into 
the  house,  where  after  an  hour's  tarry  we  were  served 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


137 


with  a  dinner  that  hardly  paid  for  the  time  lost  in  eating 
it.     It    consisted    of  bread,  potatoes,  and   tea  sweetened 

with  molasses ;  but,  like 
the  apples,  even  this 
was  "a  change"  from 
beaver  stews. 

"Must  a-had  a  dry 
time,   gen'lmen," 


"CAN   YOU   GET   UP   A   DINNER    FOR    THE   CROWD?" 

he  said,  as  he  busied  himself  attending  to  us.  "Didn't 
find  much  water,  I  guess.  Never  did  see  the  'Roos- 
took  run  down  so  low  in  all  my  life,  an'  I've  lived 
on  this  'ere  river  now  nigh  on  thirty-seven  year.  I'm 


138  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

seventy  odd  year  old,  but  only  for  a  lame  hip  I've 
got  I  could  tramp  through  the  woods  with  the  best 
o'  ye." 

"You  must  have  some  trouble  in  working  your  farm," 
remarked  the  Colonel,  surveying  the  fields  in  front  of 
the  door. 

"Oh,  no;  not  much.  I  raise  sons  to  do  it.  Fve  got 
eleven  as  likely  boys  as  you  ever  did  see ;  but  I  lost  one 
in  the  war — poor  feller!"  as  in  a  husky  tone  of  voice  he 
pointed  to  a  framed  certificate  of  his  son's  war  services. 

Sixteen  miles  more  of  vigorous  paddling  brought  us  to 
the  town  of  Masardis,  the  post-office  of  the  county,  and 
landing  on  the  shore  among  a  number  of  dug-outs  and 
batteaux,  we  entered  the  village. 

"Where  is  the  store?"  inquired  the  Colonel,  as  he 
crossed  the  street  and  rapped  at  the  door  of  one  of  the 
houses. 

"Don't  have  any,"  said  the  lady  who  answered  his 
call,  surprised  at  her  visitor. 

"Well,  can  you  sell  us  some  flour,  potatoes  and  coffee?" 
and  then  the  Colonel  unrolled  his  memorandum  of  much 
needed  camp  supplies. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


139 


At  this  house  we  purchased  flour,  at  another  potatoes 
at  another  coffee,  no  two  articles  being  had  at  the  same 
place,  while  chickens  at  twenty-five  cents  each  were  sold 
"on  the  run,"  the  Colonel  and  Hiram  securing  them  after 
an  energetic  race. 


BIRD   TRAPPING    MADE    EASY 


An  old  lady  of  seventy  summers,  who  sold  me  a  box 
of  honey  and  was  very  communicative,  said  during  a 
short  but  delightful  conversation — "I  suppose  you  have 
heaps  more  people  down  in  Connecticut  than  we  have 
in  this  town ;  but  I  don't  believe  they  are  half  so  happy 
as  our  townsfolks.  Oh,  no!  they  can't  be  near  so  happy 


140 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


— except,  well — except  on  election  days;"  and  a  sad  ex- 
pression came  over  her  wrinkled  countenance,  for  the 
smaller  the  town,  the  greater  is 
the  feeling  on  politics  in  Maine. 
The  river  now  widens  to  a  dis- 
tance of  over  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet,  and  day  after  day  shows 
a  gradual  increase  in  its  depth  and 
power. 

The  current  sweeps  us  swiftly 
onward  through  rapids  innumer- 
able in  the  full  excitement  of  ca- 
noe life,  but  occasionally  we  are 
forced  to  disembark  and  drag  our 
canoes  over  a  rocky  beach,  which 
obliges  us  to  retain  the  "shoes." 

At  our  various  camps  we  are  visited  by  the  inhabi- 
tants along  the  route,  who  in  return  for  the  history  of 
our  tour  entertain  us  with  news  of  the  outside  world, 
from  which  we  have  been  separated  for  so  many  weeks. 
Then  we  begin  to  realize  that  we  are  homeward  bound. 
An  invitation  to  one  of  these  callers,  requesting  the 


SEVENTY    SUMMERS.' 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


141 


honor  of  his  company  at  breakfast  was  accepted  (with 
avidity),  although,  as  he  remarked,  "the  old  woman  was 
waiting-  to  serve  that  meal  for  him  on  yonder  hill." 


A  PEEP  AT  THE   STRANGERS. 


On  passing  the  towns  of  Ashland  and  Washburn,  the 
foamy  and  discolored  appearance  of  the  stream  gave 
evidence  of  the  potato  starch  manufactories  in  the  vi- 
cinity. 


142  PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 

The  strangest  peculiarity  of  the  inhabitants  was  their 
utter  ignorance  of  the  country  and  its  surroundings. 

These  people,  living  on  the  river,  could  not  give  us 
the  faintest  idea  of  distances  to  points  along  the  shore. 

"Hello,  stranger!"  yelled  the  Colonel,  as  rounding  a 
bend  in  the  stream  he  spied  a  man  standing  in  one  of 
the  log-houses  that  dot  the  banks;  "can  you  tell  us  how 
far  it  is  to  the  next  town?" 

"Dunno,  friend;  but  its  nigh  on  ten  miles  by  the  road." 

Another  gave  the  same  answer,  while  a  third  did  not 
know  the  name  of  the  next  town,  although  he  had  lived 
five  years  in  the  country — a  parallel  to  the  Virginian 
woodsman  who  stalked  forth  from  his  native  pines  one 
day  to  learn  that  there  had  been  such  a  catastrophe 
in  the  history  of  his  country  as  the  war  of  the  Rebel- 
lion 

"Wake  up,  boys,"  yelled  the  Colonel,  arousing  the 
party  (4  A.  M.)  at  our  last  camp  near  Washburn,  where 
we  turned  out  in  the  dark  to  partake  of  a  hasty  break- 
fast before  embarking. 

"If  we  are  going  to  make  forty-five  miles  to  Caribou 
to  day,  we  must  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines, — or 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  i4j 

while  it  doesn't  shine,"  he  added,  as  he  took  notice  of 
the  darkness. 

Soon  we  were  gliding  down  the  swift  stream,  avoiding 
the  huge  rocks  dimly  appearing  through  the  mist,  until 
at  last  the  rising  sun  dispelled  the  darkness. 

At  Presque  Isle  we  landed,  and  while  the  guides  were 
preparing  dinner,  I  climbed  a  neighboring  hill  with  my 
Tourograph  and  secured  a  picture  of  the  scene. 

Hour  after  hour  we  labored  at  the  paddles,  until  they 
seemed  almost  a  part  of  ourselves;  the  "shoes"  on  our 
canoes  retarded  us  not  a  little. 

The  sun  was  creeping  down  the  western  sky,  and  the 
tall  pines  on  the  bluffs  above  us  threw  their  lengthening 
shadows  across  the  stream,  as  doubling  the  last  bend  we 
shot  the  canoes  along  side  the  wharf  at  Caribou,  and 
completed  our  tour  of  over  four  hundred  miles  from 
Moosehead  Lake  to  the  Aroostook  River. 

Here  we  took  the  cars.* 


*  Since  this  canoe  tour  was  completed  the  railroad  has  been  extended  to  the  town 
of  Presque  Isle,  at  which  point  tourists  can  leave  the  Aroostook  River,  saving  them- 
selves a  tedious  paddle  of  about  twenty-two  miles  to  Caribou. 


146 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE. 


A  delegation  of  the  "big  people"  of  the  vicinity  saw 
us  off. 


VALEDICTORY. 


At  the  parting  moment  they  seemed  visibly  affected,  as 
our  sketch  shows. 

As  we  crossed  the  line  at  Fort  Fairfield  the  follow- 
ing day  on  our  way  to  Woodstock,  New  Brunswick, 
the  custom  house  officer  found  nothing  in  our  kit  to 
reward  his  examination,  although  he  displayed  much 
curiosity  in  the  leather  case  containing  the  camera. 


PADDLE  AND  PORTAGE.  147 

"You  must  have  had  a  fine  time,"  he  remarked. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "save  building  dams  and  shoe- 
ing canoes." 

While  the   Indian  ejaculated — 

"Me  think  so,  too;    yes!" 

In  the  whirl  of  the  outside  world  the  weeks  fleet  by 
as  with  the  swiftness  of  a  day,  but  in  the  solitude  of  the 
wilds  it  seems  a  longer  lease  of  time. 

It  is  like  an  age  since  we  took  leave  of  civilization  and 
plunged  into  the  heart  of  the  forests.  Now,  out  of  the 
depths,  with  a  bound  we  are  again  in  the  noise  of  the 
busy  world. 

Mighty  trees,  primeval  rocks  with  draperies  of  vine 
and  moss  and  lichen,  tumbling  cascades,  rushing  streams, 
and  all  the  forest's  wealth  of  color,  form  and  music  dis- 
t  appear  like  magic. 

Presto!  what  a  change! 

From  the  sigh  and  rustle  of  the  grand  old  pines  list 
to  the  rattle  of  rail  cars,  the  shriek  of  whistles,  and  hum 
of  machinery  in  the  mills  and  factories. 

From  the  croon  of  the  night-bird,  that  with  the  distant 
star  has  often  been  my  only  company  in  the  dark  hours 


148  PADDLE  AND   PORTAGE. 

while  my  comrades  slept,  list  to  the  bark  of  dogs  and 
crow  of  cocks,  as  we  rush  past  town  and  hamlet  through 
the  night  and  early  morn.  We  are  out  of  the  wilds. 
Farewell,  Nature!  Welcome,  Home! 

"  There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  wood, 
There  is  a  rapture  on  the  lonely  shore, 
There  is  society  where  none  intrude — 


To  sit  on  rocks,  to  muse  o'er  flood  and  fell, 
To  slowly  trace  the  forest's  shady  scene, 
Where  things  that  own  not  man's  dominion  dwell, 
And  mortal  foot  hath  ne'er  or  rarely  been  ; 
To  climb  the  trackless  mountain  all  unseen, 


Alone  o'er  steep  and  foaming  falls  to  lean— 

This  is  not  solitude  ;  'tis  but  to  hold 

Converse  with  Nature's  charms  and  view  her  stores  unrolled.' 


THE  MOST  ARTISTIC  AND  CHARMING  ROOK  OF  THE  SEASON. 


CA.OTQE 


A  PMograpiiic  and  Descriptive  Tour  of  Two  Hundred  Miles  turongli  the  Maine  Forests. 

By  THOMAS  SEDGWICK  STEELE,  of  Hartford,  Conn. 

SIXTY  BEAUTIFUL  SCENERY  AND  CHARACTER  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  WELL-KNOWN  ARTISTS,  INCLUDING 

TRUE  WILLIAMS,  BENJAMIN-  DAY,  AUG.  WILL,  AND  OTHERS,  TOGETHER  WITH  NEW  MAPS 

OF  THE   STATE,    EXPRESSLY    PREPARED    FOR   THE  WORK,  WHICH    PRESENT  THE 

LATEST  EXPLORATIONS  OF  THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS  EXPERIENCED  GUIDES. 

WHAT    IS    SAID    OF    "CANOE    AND    CAMERA." 

FOREST  AND  STREAM  says:  "  It  is  a  superb  volume.  One  of  the  most  attractive  summer  books 
of  the  vear.  The  mechanical  work  is  of  the  very  highest  standard.  The  country  explored  and  described 
comprised  the  region  of  the  East  Branch  of  the  Penobscot  River — a  territory  rich  in  beautiful  scenery 
and  well  supplied  with  game  and  fish.  It  is  admirably  adapted  to  canoeing.  Mr.  Steele  is  no  amateur 
in  the  camp  and  on  the  jaunt.  He  has  explored  the  wilds  of  Florida,  the  forests  of  Lake  Superior, 
Wisconsin,  and  has  camped  beside  the  Rangeleys.  An  enthusiastic  sportsman,  he  communicates  this 
spirit  to  his  book,  and  writes  in  a  vein  which  leads  the  reader  unconsciously  to  sympathize  with  him  in 
his  description  of  a  striking  landscape,  his  spirited  accounts  of  a  capture  o'f  a  fish,  or  the  running  of  a 
rapid,  and  in  his  philosophical  and  outspoken  sentiments  regarding  the  ethics  of  the  camp  and  field." 

CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER,  the  eminent  author,  writes  concerning  this  volume:  "Canoe  and 
Camera,  by  Mr.  Thomas  Sedgwick  Steele,  is  one  of  the  handsomest  books  of  the  season,  and  reflects 
great  credit  on  the  taste  of  the  author,  the  printer,  and  the  binder.  It  is  seldom  that  a  book  is  so  fully 
and  so  well  illustrated.  Many  of  the  drawings  are  charming,  and  many  of  them  are  not  only  picturesque, 
but  interesting,  as  views  of  wild  scenerv  which  the  author  describes." 

THE  ADVANCE,  Chicago.— "  A  delightful  book,  delightfully  gotten  up,  is  Canoe  and -Camera,  an 
illustrated  description  of  a  2oo-miles  tour  through  the  Maine  forests.  There  are  instructions  as  to  the 
best  modes  of  reaching  and  traversing  this  wild,  romantic  region,  and  the  accounts  of  the  routes,  the 
fishing  regions,  the  adventures,  and  the  scenery,  with  the  sixty  illustrations  and  the  20x25  in.  map,  almost 
make  the  reader  feel  that  he  takes  the  trip  in  his  easy  chair,  without  any  of  its  attendant  drawbacks." 

THF.  INDEPENDENT,  N.  Y. — "  It  is  a  lively  narrative  of  adventure,  with  abundant  illustrations,  and 
and  is  altogether  a  charming  volume." 

BOSTON  JOURNAL.— "The  book  is  written  in  the  best  of  tamper,  in  a  fresh  and  breezy  style,  ar.d 
with  a  zest  that  marks  a  true  sportsman." 

1  vol.    Crown  8vo.    Cloth.    S1.5O. 

Sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

ESTKS    &    LATJRIA.T,    Publishers, 

301  to  305  WASHINGTON  STKF.F.T,  BOSTOX.  MASS 


JUST    PUBLISHED. 


A    NEW    MAP   OF    THE 

HEADWATERS    OF    THE 

AROOJTOOK.  PENOBSCOT.  AND  ST.  JOHN  RIVERS, 

MAINE, 

COMPILED    BY 

THOMAS    SEDG-WICK    STEELE, 

HARTFORD,    CONN. 

AUTHOR   OF 

CANOE     AND     CAMERA  ;      OR,     Two     HUNDRED    MILES     THROUGH     THK 

MAINE   FORESTS. 
PADDLE    AND    PORTAGE,   FROM    MOOSEHEAD   LAKE   TO   THE   AROOSTOOK 

RlTER,     ETC.,    ETC. 


What  is  said  of  the  Map  by  the  well-known  Sportsman's  Paper,  "  FOREST  AND  STREAM." 
'•  A  NEW  MAP  OK  NORTHERN  MAINE.  —  Mr.  Thomas  Sedgewick  Steele,  author  of 
'  Canoe  and  Camera  '  and  other  works,  has  just  compiled  one  of  the  most  satisfactory  maps 
of  the  great  canoe  tours  of  Northern  Maine  yet  published.  This  chart  is  20x30  inches, 
printed  on  Government  Survey  paper,  mounted  on  cloth,  and  is  an  invaluable  aid  to  the 
sportsman  tourist  in  these  wild  regions,  —  in  fact,  to  such  an  individual  it  is  a  most  neces- 
sary adjunct  to  the  economy  of  his  camp  kit.  From  the  extreme  lower  portion  of  the  map 
covered  by  Moosehead  Lake  diverge  the  great  rivers  of  this  vast  wilderness,  —  the  Main 
St.  John,  Aroostook,  and  East  and  West  Branches  of  the  Penobscot,  while  a  portion  of  Canada 
on  the  north  and  New  Brunswick  on  the  east  is  embraced  within  its  boundaries.  Great  care 
has  been  exercised  in  noting  many  points  along  these  routes,  which,  although  of  the  greatest 
importance  to  the  canoeist,  are  seldom  brought  within  the  scope  of  the  ordinary  map.  Along 
the  Main  St.  John  every  log  house  and  portage  seems  to  be  conscientiously  indicated,  while 
the  many  falls  of  the  picturesque  East  Branch  are  noted,  to  the  advantage  and  caution  of 
the  voyageur  of  these  waters.  After  leaving  the  farms  at  Chesuncook  and  Chamberlin 
I^ake  the  tourist  to  the  Aroostook  paddles  about  two  hundred  miles  through  the  wilderness 
before  reaching  a  sign  of  civilization,  the  first  house  being  that  of  Philip  Painter,  while  the 
second  habitation,  one  mile  further  on,  is  that  of  William  Botting,  situated  on  the  right 
bank,  at  a  bend  of  the  Aroostook  River,  called  the  Oxbow.  Innumerable  lakes  and  ponds 
are  spread  out  before  one  on  this  chart  like  shot  holes  in  a  target.  These  and  many  other 
points  of  interest  recommend  this  new  survey  of  Mr.  Steele  to  the  camper-out  in  the  wilds 
of  Maine.  The  map  is  published  by  Estes  &  Lauriat,  of  Boston,  and  is  mailed,  postpaid, 
for  Sl.OO  per  copy."  —  Forest  and  Stream. 

PRICE,   $1.00. 
Sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 


ESTJES    &    3L.AJCJRIAT, 

301-305  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


